Our First Christmas
I was trying to focus on Christmas, and the holidays and my kids upcoming birthdays but while I was bustling and busy and full of holiday cheer…on the outside, the inside was a different story. Even though I was not consciously thinking about it, the fact that the 1st anniversary of the day my life exploded was coming up, as weighing so heavily inside.
I was trying so hard to keep it together, to figure this out. How to navigate Christmas morning for my kids, where their parents weren’t together. We had decided to still do Christmas morning together; he would come over early in the morning and perhaps have breakfast and open presents. Trying to give them something. Anything that could detract from this pain. I continued to tell myself it was for the kids; it was for them. I certainly could have done without the stress of it. The anxiety that surrounded the idea of spending a holiday together, when the pain wasn’t healed still, was a lot. But I continued to tell myself that I love my kids, more than I “hated” him. The truth is, I didn’t hate him. I didn’t love him but I did not hate him. Over the past year I had done so much internal work- with lots left to do- but I didn’t feel hate. Of course I was riddled with sadness - over the loss of what I THOUGHT my future life and my kids future life would be. But that's kinda it.
We never had a real tree before; so this year I was determined that we would. The girls and I would get a REAL Christmas tree and start our OWN Christmas tradition. And they LOVED it. I can still see their faces, their PJS, them dancing in front of that newly decorated real tree. Core memory activated for sure.
Christmas morning came, and he came over. But it was nothing like what I anticipated it would be. No breakfast. He didn’t even bring the gifts he had bought for them. So it ended up being….my kids, opening their gifts from me…and that was it. What the fuck was the point of this? I was so fucking annoyed- that was just dumb. But the kids were happy. After their opened their gifts, he left and would be back a few hours later to take them to his place for their Christmas. I remember feeling SO spicy about it- WHY did I put myself through that stress for this? I vowed it would never be like that again. The kids were perfectly fine- maybe they did enjoy it but it really just felt like an added layer of stress for me- that ended up being there for such a ridiculous “memory”.
After the kids left for their Christmas with their dad, I was alone, in the quiet glow of the christmas tree lights…surrounded by discarded, torn wrapping paper and all their new gifts. My parents wanted me to come over but I just couldn’t. I had used all my physical strength with my emotional challenge. I just wanted to stay in bed. And I did….for a few hours. Until I said ok, let’s get dinner. And so we went for Chinese food. It was a challenge to be even a little joyful and not feel like I was just bringing everyone down. I went home and went to bed.
I had never been away from my kids for Christmas celebrations in their whole lives, a decade of being a mom and celebrating. And here I was, alone, in my bed, watching Netflix and trying not to fall apart.
