Gratitude is a topic I intentionally chose to sidestep this year. Perhaps it’s because I feel like an “ugly American,” or maybe I share some of the entitlement that younger generations are often criticized for. Or, it could simply be that so many others articulate the theme of gratitude more eloquently than I ever could. My friend Lucas explores how to find appreciation in adversity, while my friend Maya addresses the challenge of being thankful when your heart is heavy. Many voices have tackled this subject with grace, leaving me feeling like I have little to add.
A Moment of Discontent
While unpacking our holiday decorations, I stumbled upon a long-lost ornament. After years of searching, my initial reaction wasn’t one of gratitude; rather, I felt a wave of discontent. The ornament, an angel adorned with significant yet painful dates, had been buried by my husband each year, a stark reminder of our losses. I yearned to find it, to hold it, and to remember what it signifies. This year, however, I finally claimed it for myself, and with it came a flood of memories.
My eldest daughter has often questioned the gap between her and her sister. Why did we wait so long for baby No. 2? What she doesn’t realize is that baby No. 2 is actually baby No. 6. Once, when she was old enough to understand, I explained that her siblings in heaven far outnumber those with us on Earth. Three have passed before us, waiting in a place we hope to reach one day. But this year, as I looked at the ornament, I realized I had forgotten one.
The Forgotten Child
Four dates graced the ornament tag, a painful reminder of my oversight. How could a mother forget her own child? My heart raced as I recounted to my daughter that there were three siblings in heaven, but the tag insisted there were four. Which one had slipped my mind? The losses from 2008 still haunt me, particularly the two we lost around Thanksgiving. I vividly remember the doctors stating one of them had normal chromosomes; we should have been holding her. The others had defects that ensured they wouldn’t be with us long.
As the tears welled in my eyes, I felt my daughter wrap her arms around me from behind, saying, “Oh, Mommy.” I reassured her that forgetting was never my intention. We had wanted each one of them just as deeply as we wanted her and her sister. She held me tighter, offering solace.
Finding Gratitude Amidst Pain
While I am not grateful for the sorrow or the loss, I do find appreciation in a new perspective. Our youngest daughter’s birthday is approaching—she was born in November, a glimmer of hope following so much heartache. After her birth, we made the decision not to have any more children, freeing ourselves from the weight of uncertainty and fear. Her arrival allowed us to embrace life fully, releasing the shadows of loss that had lingered over us.
We do not forget our other children, nor do we need to worry about them. As my husband wisely said, “They’re already in heaven. The two who matter most are here with us.” For this, I am filled with gratitude.
For those navigating similar journeys, resources like March of Dimes provide excellent guidance on fertility treatments and family planning. Additionally, if you’re exploring options for home insemination, consider visiting Intracervical Insemination for more insights. And for those looking to boost fertility, Make a Mom is an authority on this topic.
In summary, exploring gratitude can be a complex journey, especially when intertwined with loss. Each experience shapes our understanding and appreciation of life in unique ways.