Coping with the Holidays

Last night Jeff and I sat in a room.

We sat in a room with 20+ people.

Last night we sat in a circle in a room with 20+ people who have lost babies. In other words, we went to our first grief support group. This one specifically focused on coping with the holidays after an infant loss. (No matter how you say it... it doesn't make it any easier.)

Last night when I entered the room at Kindermourn, a non-profit that supports families dealing with grief, I couldn’t make eye contact with anyone. I didn’t say a word. The room was full of what I heard as anxious whispers. I was hot... then I was cold... then I was hot again. There were cookies on the table that no one touched. Someone asked if I wanted a drink. I said no. ‘Why is this so uncomfortable?’ I thought. Because - let’s face it – the subject is just uncomfortable. At Kindermourn their infant, stillbirth and miscarriage loss groups are called “Empty Arms” groups, and that is just what we came to talk about. I expected to have a baby in my arms, and now I’m sitting in a metal chair in a room with strangers about to talk about something that makes me sad. And mad. And emotional. And confused.

But how quickly the tides turned. The group facilitator, Michael, instantly brought a sense of warmth to the group. There were no secrets there in that room. We were all there because we had similar experiences and needed support. We may have had specific questions, or, like me... may have had no idea what to even ask. I just knew I needed to be there.

Talk about being around people who just “get it.” We heard from a group of panelists who discussed how to cope with the already-emotionally-fueled holidays after a loss. Let me tell you, hearing others’ stories of loss was NOT pleasant. The stories shared were sad, horrible, not fair... excruciating. It was an awful way to be brought together – by having something so devastating in common. There is almost an instant form of camaraderie in a group like that once people start opening up, though. It feels like we have put on our heavy armor and are preparing for battle together.

So there we sat. And there we supported one another. There we collected ideas of how to preserve the memory of our child. We talked about making decisions about how we need to celebrate (or not celebrate) during the holidays and the importance of saying “no” if we needed to. We talked about the hustle and bustle of the holidays and what frustration we may expect to feel. We heard from one mother whose fury got taken out on a Target employee who was just a little “too jolly” last Christmas. One mother spoke about how far she’d come from her 1^st holiday season after losing her son... to now her 5^th.

We are trying to think of some ways to make Lucy a part of our holiday season this year. She is a precious memory and part of our family. We love traditions, and she needs to be tied to our traditions. We’ll light a candle in honor of Lucy. We’ll get an ornament in her memory to put on our tree. We’ll talk about how thankful we are and what better people we are for having known her.

Any you know what? Hudson’s family will be doing the same thing for him. And so will Caroline and Christina’s family. And so will Gabriella’s family. These babies are amazing gifts and we will remember them.

I’m so glad that there is a support system of people for times like these. We are certainly not alone. I can only hope to help someone else in the future by offering the perspective that some of the parents offered me last night. Like one mother said, “Being here for others years later... it’s a simple way to give back. Someone did it for me.”