Hannah's ornament, 2011
After putting off for a couple of weeks, Daddy and I decided it was time to decorate our Christmas tree. We had been telling Ethan and Abby we would do it “that night” all week long, but we always had an excuse to put it off. At the time, I thought it was more of Daddy trying to postpone decorating the house and tree.
It is a small tree, only 4 ft tall. The lights were already on, and in the place of a regular tree topper, someone had placed the little pink bling Santa hat that we had bought for Hannah the week before she passed. One of the last pictures I have of her is her sleeping with the hat on, holding hands with a sleeping Abigail who had crawled into bed with her…just 5 days before she passed away (those of you on FB have probably seen that pic). The hat looks perfect because it is so thin that the lights from the tree come through it and illuminate it.
Tonight it was time to decorate. And I realized, it was not just Daddy that was avoiding this.
I put up our 2011 family ornament, which was a gift from a good friend. We have had a family ornament every year since we got married, and the current year is always the first ornament we put up. So I put that ornament on and then each of the kids grabbed their personal 2011 ornament.
I grabbed Hannah’s ornament. I had ordered it a month ago when she was still with us. It is a Mickey and Minnie with her name and year on it. It didn’t have a hook, so I handed it to Daddy to try and find. Then I had to step back.
It just hit me. This overwhelming wave of depression and sadness. I ended up just sitting on the couch the entire time while Ethan, Abby, and Daddy decorated the tree and put out all of the holiday decorations. I think that may have been the time that I did dishes in between just to give me something to do to get my mind off it.
I wanted so much to have Hannah back with us. I wanted so much to be able to sit on the couch and snuggle with her like I did last year when the kids and Daddy were putting ornaments on. I had such an intense, intense, intense desire to just smell her and touch her skin again.
Even though Hannah only passed away less than 2 weeks ago, I had never felt such a chest-crushing sadness. I have had my emotional breakdowns, but I never felt it this horribly intense. Ethan and Abby were on the other side of the room playing a game, but I just sat there on the couch. Daddy had his arm around me as I started to cry. He understood why I was so upset. I just couldn’t sit there anymore, listening to the kids fighting over whatever game they were playing and the TV on.
I ended up going into my room, crawled into bed, under the covers, and just started bawling. Yep, me, the one who thinks I am so dang strong, crawled into bed at 7:30 pm just so I could get away from everything and just be sad. Such a physically painful grief. I think I must have eventually dozed off because when I woke up, it was almost 9 pm. Even though I was still feeling sad, it wasn’t the same overwhelming depression.
I am just not looking forward to this holiday season. Not at all. If it wasn’t for Ethan and Abby, I would probably just run off somewhere and let this year’s holiday pass and come back in 2012.
So here I am. Everyone is asleep. “Just like old times” when I would stay up with Hannah for my night shift. Gosh, that seemed like a whole different life. What I would give to have my Hannah sleeping just 10 feet away from me again right now.
I miss her. I miss her so damn much.
Carrie, I am so sorry. We faked our first Christmas without Gage as well because of Emily. We actually put up a lit palm tree instead of a traditional tree that year, to try and trick ourselves into thinking it wasn’t really Christmas. And yes, the grief is a physical pain. You will have waves of emotions, and that is ok. Allow yourself those moments to be alone, but don’t be afraid to cry in front of the kids. Emily was such a great source of relief to me during those first blurry weeks and months. She would just hug me and pat my back. Even now, 2 years later, when I am upset about Gage, she comes over and sits in my lap and loves on me. Please know I am here for you in any way you need me. To talk about our babies, to talk about rare diseases, to help you with your 501c3. Maybe one day we can meet in person at one of the Rare Disease meetings. Until then, I am thinking of you and your family.
Carrie, I remember how the grief would come in surges just like the one you described. One minute I would be holding everything together, and the next I’d be a blubbering mess. This went on for a few months, actually, although over time the “grief attacks” became fewer and farther between. There were times I thought I was going crazy. Times I *wished* I was going crazy. But I wasn’t. It’s just the crazy way grief can strike you. Just remember there is no right or wrong way to go through this awful time. Do what feels right to you. Trust yourself. Grieving is an intensely personal process, and the four of you will go through it in four different ways.
Ok…this will probably be all over, but… Here we go..
The Christmas season that Bennett died was hard. Me, the person who will put up multiple trees, didn’t even want one. We had to put one up for Olivia. I bought a little 4 footer that came with Rudolph ornaments. The only other ornaments on it were Olivia’s ornament for that year, and one that I bought for Ben. I did all my Christmas shoppng in one 3 hour trip…. Crying the entire time. I’m sure everyone who saw me thought I
was crazy. We took a concrete angel and a wreath to the cemetery. I wanted to just hide in bed until the new year. My little girl was the only reason I got out of bed each morning. Thank God I had her. I remember crying
until I thought I had no more tears… And then cry more… I remember helplessly crying over the phone when you or Laura or Kelly, or B or Jill or Heather called to check on me. There were times I thought I would die from heartbreak. Then Christmas Eve came. We were sitting in church, Olivia on my lap, and for the first time I felt a sense of peace. I had been so stressed over striving for a ‘normal’ Christmas… And God spoke into my heart and let me know that I didn’t have to aspire to normal. It didn’t matter that the cookies came from the bakery. It didn’t matter that we were the only house without lights and decorations outside. None of that was what Christmas was about. We went home, tucked a sleepy girl into bed, played Santa and went to bed. I woke about 3 am, checked on Liv, walked into the living room… And realized what I needed to put out. Down to the basement, I dug out our nativity. Went up and unpacked it and arranged it on the hearth. I cried. But I also realized that I had forgotten why it’s such a sacred night. Kissed my girl, snuggled back in bed with Tim until morning. In the morning I was able to take joy in watching Olivia’s excitement over her gifts. I could look at Tim and see the same in his eyes. Christmas was quiet and low key, and that was what we absolutely needed that year. It gets easier as the years go by. I still get some pangs in my heart when I hang certain ornaments. It still hurts that we only have one child waking us at an unearthly hour to open gifts. I don’t pretend to understand why things happen the way they do…but I know that you will find joy again. You’ll NEVER forget, but you’ll carry Hannah in your heart always. If this Hannukah and Christmas are quiet, and low key, Ethan and Abby will still bring you smiles, Robert will still wrap his arms around you, and you’ll go in to the new year with a resolution to carry on Hannah’s legacy. You can also call me anytime. I will laugh with you or cry with you, or just listen. You know my heart is hurting with you.
You have experienced a traumatic event of incredible proportions, and you have had to be strong for so long. If you don’t allow yourself to give in, your body will force it. Having a traditional event such as trimming a tree triggers so many thoughts. My dear friend who passed away gave me her Disney Pooh ornaments that we got in DisneyWorld on her last wish trip we went on. Every year, even after 13 years now, I cry and hold those ornaments when I place them on my tree because she never got to do so. She was an adult and not my sweet child, so the tragedy is not comparable, but it still hits me. Hugs and love to you.
Carrie,
Oh man reading this is like re-living it all over again. You write pretty much word for word what I wrote. I know this kills you and I feel the same way if it wasn’t for Maddi….I still don’t like decorating as much. Emma’s birthday would be tomorrow and I always loved having her bday decorations up with the tree and she loved all the lights and presents etc. I miss her so much there is a dark empty hole in me….It doesn’t get “easier” it just becomes more acceptable. Love ya girl
Carrie,
When I read your post about Hannah’s legacy taking shape it shows what a fighter you are really…that fight is in there even though at times it is pushed aside with the grief. You have experiened an overwhelming loss. Probably the hardest that any of us ever experience is the one you have just gone through…are going through. Yet you are thinking about others…moving forward with your husband, your children, ministering to other families who are experiencing what you have been through. That kind of attitude will get you through this. Even though you want to hide under the covers…you won’t…not for long. There has to be a purpose for all of this and I believe as the days, months and even years unfold that purpose will become more real to you. I have a friend who has a child born with very severe limitations…special needs. Now they are adopting another child with severe limitations because they believe that God has equipped them through Jillian to give that same love and attention to another similar child. Like you, they also have two shall we say “normal” children. They are always smiling, always giving and God blesses them again and again. It is strange sounding I know, but they view life differently and so do you.
Even though you don’t know me, you are in my thoughts often and my prayers daily.
I believe God is hearing all our prayers and he will give you strength, courage and I’ll even go so far to say joy and happiness. Hannah will experience Christmas in heaven with no limitations. I hope in some way that will be a comfort.