By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
Meltdowns are no fun, and they’re especially painful when they happen in public.
Last year, I attended a friend’s daughter’s first dance recital. It was beautiful, it was funny, it was entertaining. Nothing cracks me up quite like a row of four-year-olds in pink tutus doing their best to tap on a beat.
Except this time I wasn’t laughing. Every tiny dancer made me long for the one I could have had, should have had. I sat in the semi-darkened theater, surrounded by parents, grandparents, siblings, and every form of video camera and cried. Big tears rolled down my cheeks, my nose ran like a fire hose, and when the lights came up, I doubt anyone thought my swollen face was due to seasonal allergies.
I took my first dance class when I was five and tapped, kicked, twirled, and leapt my way through childhood. I loved the magic, the music, the costumes, and even the discipline. I looked forward to one day watching my own daughter glide across a stage, and as I watched my young friend steal the show, I thought about how sad I was to to miss sharing these experiences with a mini-me.
’Tis the season of holiday performances: children’s choirs, reenactments of the nativity (I love Lisa’s description of the drive-through nativity she discovered a few years ago), pageants, caroling, The Nutcracker. I loved them all when I had parts in them, and I still love them. It’s just a little bit harder these days to keep my emotions to myself when I’m in the midst of the family fun.
So, if you notice a gal sniffling in row 12 during the curtain call, kindly pass her a tissue.
The holiday festivities can bring up all sorts of painful emotions when you’re childfree-not-by-choice. If you could use some inspiration and encouragement to get you through the tough times, check out the Life Without Baby Holiday Companion available here and on Amazon.
Its OK to feel like that as its grief manifesting because seeing that reminds you of what you sadly lost out on that you had wanted for you but never got. Crying does you good so let it out!
The holidays are particularly difficult if you don’t have kids. I just watched a video online of a child whose parents had planned this wonderful surprise for Christmas morning where they showed their little 3 year old Santa’s snow prints on their rug, and that Santa had eaten the cookies they’d left, and then of course all the gifts…etc, and the sheer delight of this little guy dressed in his cute one piece pjs, believing it all hook, line and sinker, was so beautiful and heartwarming I couldn’t help but break into tears at work. Because of course for me, as beautiful as this viedo was, it was also profoundly painful. I would never have the chance to do this with my child. I know, I shouldn’t watch those videos in the first place. But who can look away?
Recently I notice that I spend a lot of time thinking about my past, especially during the holidays. My father just passed 10 months ago, my mother 16 years ago and I think about them and my childhood all the time. My husband has even mentioned my preoccupation with the past. I think that I keep escaping to my past and my very happy childhood , because I don’t have my own kids, and so I’m not focused as any other 46 year old woman with kids would be about the future of my children. Instead, because I don’t have their future to look forward to, I hide in my past and relive my own childhood, and watch and rewatch old home movies, and talk about my parents sometimes to the point where I realize it’s too much. I don’t know if this is healthy, but sometimes it feels like the only comfortable place that I can escape to (in my head at least).
That’s what the holidays do. Just when you think you have it all together and under control……bam – it gets you.
Oh, Liza, I am so sorry for your loss this year. Thank you for sharing your perspective. Be gentle with yourself.
Liza, you will be in my thoughts and prayers today. As Kathleen said, please be gentle with yourself and the process of healing time.
Its always the way isn’t it that things you have lost out on are shoved in your face at every turn. You have my permission not to go to anything if all it will do is upset you and remind you of what you sadly lost out on.
Wow! Kathleen, you were so brave to even think about attending that recital. Kudos to you!
To all who visit this site for support and inspiration, I wish you a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! I feel so grateful to be part of a worldwide community like Life Without Baby. We are a people who struggle to make sense of what has happened to us, and then bravely choose to figure out how to move forward.
Because I am a Christian, moving forward for me means giving birth to Christ, now that I am free of biology’s call and the pity and opinions of other people. After the winter darkness of grief and the spring rains of my tears, the womb of my heart is fertile ground, prepared for the Holy Spirit to enter, so that together we can bring new life.
This may be hard to hear for my Christian friends who are still aching with grief, especially during the Christmas season when they see all the families at church, blessed with adorable little ones by a God who answered “yes” to their fervent prayers. Why them and not me? I had my own experience of this type of frustration just yesterday at the office when a factory operations manager leaned on the door sill of the president of the company’s office (I’m a couple doors down the hallway) and started fretting about his wife’s due date over the holidays. A customer service rep working nearby heard the conversation (because it was so freaking loud!), so he walked over to add his two cents. Before I knew it, there were three men talking just a few feet away about first time baby due dates, caesarian sections, water breaking, timing of contractions, etc.
“Are you kidding me?” I whispered to myself, debating whether or not to get up and shut my door. A quick peek revealed that they were gathered around the president’s office and not actually trying to include me in the convo. So I swiveled my chair around and pretended to work at the computer.
After taking a deep and shaky centering prayer breath, I turned to the Lord to offer up this painful, awkward moment and join it to his cross. Jesus knew the pain of not having his own biological family and still maintained a faith so great in God that he could withstand anything. Together in prayer, we looked back over the year to remember how I had given birth with my new super powers. Secretly, I feasted on the intimacy of the Lord’s love until I was so full that I could stand up, poke my head out the door, and wish the factory guy a Merry Christmas and good luck with the new baby.
So my wish for you all this holiday season is that you find out how to move forward in your own way, that gives new life to the world around you. What joy are you on the edge of that maybe you can’t see yet?
Merry Christmas, and may God continue to bless this world with the gift of His only begotten Son, Jesus.
Wow, Kathleen! You were so brave to attend that recital. Kudos to you.
To all who visit this site for support and inspiration, I wish you a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! I feel so grateful to be part of a worldwide community like this. We at LWB are a people who struggle to make sense of what has happened to us, and then bravely choose to figure out how to move forward.
Because I am a Christian, moving forward for me means giving birth to Christ, making Jesus present in places where he needs to be. In the gospel of Matthew, chapter 18, verse 20, Jesus says, “For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.” After the winter darkness of grief and the spring rains of my tears, I constantly pray that my heart is fertile ground, waiting for the Holy Spirit to bring new life.
My wish for all of you this holiday season is that you find out how to move forward in your own way, one that gives life to the world around us.
Thanks, Lisa, for publishing version 2 of my comment. I thought the first draft had gotten lost in a techy glitch, so I resubmitted and saw the same thing happen! I wonder if other commenters have experienced this.
When I click on “post comment” the comment disappears, but there is no website response that says something like, “Your comment is waiting for webmaster review prior to posting.” Is it possible to add this? Just a thought. Many thanks for all you that you do. This website is a labor of love and much appreciated by everyone.
By the way, I am really enjoying a Strange Companion! Can’t say I support the whole reincarnation idea and ouija boards, but gosh you can tell a great story! I recommend everyone check it out on the Wattpad app so that you can all the cool videos accompanying various chapters.
Just had a mini melt down in the bath on christmas morning. Waking up to my sister gently singing christmas carols to her infant in the next room was too much…
What a special unique pain this is.
Having our mum dote 1000% on this baby at all times doesnt help.
So what if i just got a promotion…. she will ask about it then babble to the baby as im answering.
Does anyome else know this unique and isolating silent pain?
I’m sorry to hear that you are finding things difficult right now. Its always hard to take when its someone close who has a baby that you wanted for yourself but couldn’t have and it all seems so bloody unfair and you think to yourself its not fair! Why should they get a baby and I don’t and its bloody unfair and it hurts when you see others experiencing what you should have had but sadly lost out on and of course you are happy for your sister and wouldnt wish I’ll on her but it doesn’t mean you can’t be sad for yourself.
Oh, Amanda. How awful. I don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, but yes I have been in situations when it seems the emotional pain just won’t end and tomorrow offers no hope. Hang in there, sweetheart. Life does eventually get better. Keep reaching out for support.
Congratulations on your promotion!! Way to go.
Oh, yes, Amanda. Makes you want to stand on a chair a scream out all the things you do/have done that make your life count. Starting with “I AM NOT INVISIBLE!!!”
And congratulations on your promotion! Well done!
Amanda,
I know the frustration you feel. Last weekend we celebrated Christmas with my husband’s family. We are the only childless couple. His brother and sister have multiple children and believe me, they are the center of attention. I feel like I’m lucky to sometimes get a word in edgewise. Sure, I get asked what’s new in my life, like “how’s work?” or “how are your parents doing?”. But then as I respond, they quickly shift their focus to a grandkid, niece or nephew. It’s so irritating…and actually, kinda rude. I want to tell them, don’t even bother to ask me how I’m doing if you can’t give me 5 minutes of your undivided attention.
The holidays are difficult enough as it is, but to be surrounded by doting parents and grandparents just makes me want to scream. Ugh
Definitely needed to read this today, had a panic attack this morning for the first time in awhile. I overbooked myself this holiday season and think it all finally hit me this morning, especially with all the kid photos being posted and the overwhelming amount of announcements lately. Luckily I was able to pull myself together since we were hosting Christmas Eve. Hoping tomorrow isn’t too rough, going for a jog in the morning first to clear my head.