The festivities are in full swing here now after a slightly hesitant start. I had been anticipating this month for a while, unsure how I was going to feel since loosing Henry and Benjamin almost a year ago. This Christmas was meant to be very different, it was meant to be filled with the sweet sound of two baby brothers experiencing Christmas for the first time. Instead there is a silents that lingers so loud.
I have found the build up to the festive season quite difficult, wanting so desperately to embrace it like I have done with every single other day of this year, but it was difficult at first to really place myself amongst the cheer and it was difficult to really accept that, despite the sadness I will carry with me for a life time, I actually really love Christmas. You see, when I think about what it is I am struggling with it isn't the festive atmosphere, time spent with family, the glitter or the sparkle. It is the real meaning of a Christmas I am finding hard to face, my faith which has been so strong for most of the year has faded, it's broken and it's too hard to comprehend at the moment.
We got the Christmas box down from the loft a little while ago but it was left un opened. When I eventually felt ready I was surprised at what I found and how I felt... A flood of memories came rushing back to me of this time last year... There wrapped up carefully was one of my favorite decorations - a broken Santa who had been mendded and restored ready to be used again.
This time last year I was heavily pregnant with twins, I couldn't quite get close enough to the tree to hang the decorations without my round tummy getting prickled by the branches... I dropped poor Santa and he smashed into pieces. Feeling quite emotional that he lay there broken, I decided save him and glue him back together... Here he is, as perfect as he alway was. This little decoration has a story to tell, he survived, reminding me too, that I have my story - one of sadness, I was broken into pieces, but non the less I'm here, just like little Santa is here.
I guess in time I will regain my faith, but, for now owe it to myself to just alow the ebb and the flow of this journey to take me where my heart desires whether it is to the
happiness and joy of spending time with my family, or
allowing myself to be quiet and reflect. It's not easy, but like everything else I have learnt this year time really does help. I feel happier now that I've worked through some of my anxieties and I feel comfortable to alow myself to enjoy the build up to Christmas.
This week I will be sharing one of my festive recipes over on Jodie Mays blog and I have some pictures to share of the wreath I made this weekend with my sister and her friend.
Labels: Babyloss, Christmas, Henry & Benjamin, Saying hello