Do you feel like a child tucked in snug, dreaming of sugarplums, as you anticipate Christmas morning?
Or do you feel like a child confined to bed, with flu-like symptoms, as you dread the mourning that accompanies Christmas?
Or maybe you experience a complex mixture of joy and grief that leaves you feeling vulnerable and unsteady?
The holiday season can be a painful trigger for those who are missing a loved one ’round their table.
I used to lack patience and sensitivity towards those who had difficulty celebrating the holidays. Then, I got a taste of unseasoned grief that did not go down smooth.
The other day I was down in the dumps with no logical explanation. I could not put my finger on it at first, but then I remembered. I was reliving what happened almost two years ago—around this time that is usually marked by giving thanks.
Unwrapping the Mourning
It was March of 2011 and we were giddy with anticipation. We finally were moving forward with our adoption journey. We went all in…
- Decorating the nursery
- Registering for baby gear
- Talking about baby names
- Imagining life with another little
The weeks of waiting turned to months and the months turned into a year. I felt emotionally pregnant as the ups and downs came. As a #TightlyWoundWoman this unpredictable journey unraveled me.
And then, at long last, we got THE CALL. I had just pulled into the grocery store parking lot when our caseworker called. There was a baby boy born. Could we come pick him up soon?
It was surreal. After all this waiting and getting ready and getting let down, it was time to receive what our aching, empty arms had longed for.
As Hubby and I reached the hospital we entered the lobby area and searched for the familiar face of our caseworker. Her kind eyes looked serious and somber. In an unexpected turn of events the baby’s mother returned to the hospital after being discharged and felt conflicted about her decision.
Long story short, about an hour later, we headed home with a full diaper bag and an empty car seat.
I tried to eat something on the drive back home, choking down a burger that left me nauseated as the ugly cry surfaced from the depths. As we pulled into our driveway we stuffed our feelings down so we could face our children anxiously awaiting their little brother’s arrival.
He never came home with us.
Wrapped In Morning
About a month later, we sat with extended family on Christmas morning as gifts were opened.
It was my turn to open a gift. It was from one of my sister-in-laws, the one who feels deep, sews prayerfully, dances her heart out and waits long to have babies.
I pulled out the handmade gift, a vibrant blanket with material that uniquely displayed our heart for an adopted child. She had finished it and given it to us, even though our wait was not yet complete. And there, with twenty eyes watching, my ugly cry surfaced again with uncontrolled eruptions and moans.
The beauty of her handiwork invited the unbridled grief out in a unpredictable mess of emotion.
My sister-in-law embraced me and whispered hope-words to my broken soul, “It’s going to happen. I know it.” The elephant in the room was exposed as this act of compassion unlocked the mourning.
At first I was embarrassed and tried to apologize for my outburst but then I surrendered to the reality of the situation and accepted the depth of care that was demonstrated.
Grief and joy intertwined one Christmas morning as we counted our losses amidst the bounty. #grief #Christmas #joy Share on XAnd maybe it was like that one Christmas morning long ago?
Hope sprung forth amidst the backdrop of a dark night. Amid shards of brokenness, Light was sent—wrapped in flesh; embodying good news.
The Father knew that with the arrival of His Son, deep pain would be mixed with unending joy.
As we celebrate this season let’s not forget those who are grieving through it.
Let's reach out with hands and hugs extended in empathy as they make their way through the hurt. Share on XI am grateful for the kind gesture I received in that colorful quilt. God used it to wrap me with grace and warm me with hope as my grief was validated and held close.
What is one way that you hold those who hurt during the Holidays?
Consider reading Kate Motaung’s ebook Letters to Grief, this season as you remember losses and loved-ones and help others navigate the bittersweet waters of this season. I had the pleasure to review this book and this is what I thought of it:
Grief takes shape and form through Kate’s poetic writing and reflections, I was able to understand my own grief better and have more understanding and patience with those who are hurting. So often I want grief to hurry up and take its leave we can all move on. But we don’t move on without it coming along in some shape or form, do we? Thank you Kate for pointing to the hope found in God’s Word without sugar-coating the pain of loss.
*All images used in this post were designed for the Letters to Grief book release. For more information about custom images for your website or ebook contact me via email.
Linking-up with Meredith, Holley, Kristin and Jennifer today. You’re invited to write and read and join together in community as we walk through this season together.
Karen Brown says
Katie- Thank you for sharing this painful story and for using it to bring us to the One who chose the pain to bring us hope. This is stunning writing: “Hope sprung forth amidst the backdrop of a dark night. In light of broken lives One was sent to proclaim the good news. The Father knew that with the arrival of His Son, deep pain would be mixed with unending joy. ” Perfect. This is a treasure. Thank you.
Katie Reid says
Thank you Karen- He got us through the terror and brought us a son four months later- so grateful. We move on yet we remember. His grace in the unraveling bolsters our faith.:)
Abby McDonald says
Beautiful post, friend. Thank you for sharing. Your sister-in-law sounds like an amazing woman. I think this would be a perfect book for a friend who lost her son just after the holidays last year.
Katie Reid says
Thank you Abby. She sure is.:)
beth willis miller says
i’m your neighbor over at Holley’s place today…thank you for sharing such an open, honest, transparent post today…praying for you <3
Katie Reid says
HI Beth- You can read about the beautiful ending here.:) http://echoesofmyheartcd.blogspot.com/2013/03/mourning-turns-to-songs-of-praise.html Thanks for coming over.:)
Mary Flaherty says
Katie, my heart ached for you as I read that story. I can only imagine how yours must have ached. I pray that your little one will come soon.
Katie Reid says
Hi Mary- Oh He did Mary! http://echoesofmyheartcd.blogspot.com/2013/03/mourning-turns-to-songs-of-praise.html
Kate says
SUCH a powerful testimony you have, Katie! Just incredible. What a moving story. Thank you so much for weaving these words together for the rest of us. Grateful for you and the light that shines through you!
Katie Reid says
Thank you so much Kate. It’s an honor to point others to your words.:)
Kristin Hill Taylor says
I had to take some deep breaths after reading your post. Yet there is hope and beauty in the grief you share. Thanks for opening your heart here so others can know about the hope that God gives. And thanks for linking up at #ThreeWordWednesday.
Katie Reid says
Hugs Kristin, I am sure you feel the weight of these words from that adoptive mama heart of yours. You are doing a great job hosting Three Word Wednesday!
Meredith Bernard says
Your words bring tears to my eyes, Katie. Poignant. Real. Poetic. You are such a beautiful soul and I’m so glad you are sharing this part of your story. Your own grief story. God is good and gracious, even in the midst of the deepest grief, isn’t He? Love you friend. And I love this book Kate has written. I also love your images. So perfect. <3
Katie Reid says
Thank you for your validation Meredith and supporting “my own grief story”. I think in our culture we hide our grief a lot because it is uncomfortable to others or we are embarrassed by it. But as I have begun sharing this account more this week I feel freer than burying it down deep and trying to forget it happened. Don’t want to get stuck in the mud but address it enough to go forward in a more healthy way.:) I know you understand this friend. Thank you for your words today about not having the words.
sarah says
You wrote this so exquisitely, I could feel your pain. I hope it brings hope and healing to a heart who needs it!
Katie Reid says
Thank you Sarah. Yes, I hope it brings hope & healing to others as well.
Martha Reid says
You have beautifully expressed those mourning seasons. I am blessed to have watched you and your family walk through that season with transparency so that I and others might see how to surrender those difficult times to God. I appreciate you and your great big heart for God, your family, and for people. I love you, Sis.
Katie says
Your prayers, empathy and support were such a gift. We couldn’t have walked through it without Jesus and a small army of loved ones bolstering our hearts.:)
Laura Traylot says
Katie, Your transparency, realness, and process toward healing are such a uniting force of Love to others who have faced this grief. For families of loved ones who can do nothing but pray, great reminder that just a handmade item of loving empathy, or note or any contact, can foster healing and aide the hurting to know they are not walking alone. Hands and feet of God. Blessings!
Katie Reid says
Thank you for your kinds word Laura.