Yes, we can!

The first year we were married (1985 -- 35 years ago now...!), I told dh I wanted to go to the Santa Claus Parade. 

"You want to go to the Santa Claus Parade??" was not only his reaction but his brother's & cousins' too. "Damn right," I said. I spent my entire childhood watching the Eatons Santa Claus Parade from faraway Toronto -- and now that I was living IN Toronto, I wanted to see it in person. Nevermind that I was now 24 years old and we didn't have any kids to haul along as an excuse. ;) 

We went. We (well, I, lol) had a blast. We went again several years later, along with BIL, SIL, the nephews, and a couple of dh's cousins & their kids. We were the only couple in the group without kids (and still thought we'd have our own someday at that point), but we had a blast then too. In the years after we lost our daughter, just thinking about the parade could sometimes reduce me to tears -- but gradually, the joy returned. There was no parade this year, because of COVID-19, but I keep thinking that I'd love to go again someday. :) (Preferably during a year when the weather is balmy versus subzero, lol.)  

This memory popped into mind after the usual Christmas season debate about photo cards erupted in one of the childless-not-by-choice communities where I hang out. People outside of North America apparently find the whole idea of photo cards generally bewildering, and (understandably) the annual onslaught of photos of happy families and adorable children is like rubbing salt in the wound of childlessness, particularly for people who are newly grieving the realization that the dream is over and this is permanent. A few made the comments along the lines of "nobody wants to see a photo of ME" and "people would think I'm crazy if I sent out a card with a photo of just myself/us, or of me/us & the dog." (You might be surprised... I've been getting more & more photo cards in recent years from my childless friends, both coupled & single. I love them!)

Anyway, that got me thinking about all the things we hesitate to do, or deny ourselves, or resent families doing, just because we're childless. When we're still planning our families or ttc, we think "oh, we'll do that when we have kids" (never imagining, in our innocence, that day might never come). And then, when we realize that we're not going to have those much-wanted kids, we find ourselves thinking, "I can't do that, I don't have kids," or "They'd think I'm nuts if I did that."  

I had another flashback to when I was first married. Everyone around us was getting video cameras & taking videos -- mostly of their kids, yes, but other things too. (This was 20 years before video & photo cameras started being combined, and then being included in your cellphones!)  I itched to get one for myself. There were so many times I wished I had one... but I kept putting it off. "We'll get one when we have kids," I'd tell myself.  

I mentioned this to a girlfriend once. "GET THE CAMERA," she told me (like, "Why are you waiting, if you want it that much?"). I still didn't, until I finally got a digital camera, about 15 years ago, that took video as well as photos. 

I think about the kiddie movies dh & I have gone to see -- "The Incredibles," the Minions movies. Yes, we were often the only adults there without at least one kid in tow, and the first few times we did it, we felt extremely self-conscious. But you know what? When the lights went down and the movie started, nobody could see that... and I daresay we enjoyed the movie just as much (if not more) than the parents who had to worry about taking kids to the bathroom and for popcorn refills. (Most of the best jokes in those movies go right over the kids' heads anyway!)  

I think about the poor neglected spare bedroom at our house in the suburbs... the one that was intended as the nursery. The entire time we lived there, it was a repository for dh's cheap, castoff student apartment furniture, piles of Christmas presents waiting to be wrapped, a storage spot for the vacuum cleaner & caddy full of cleaning supplies, etc. Even after I realized it was never going to be a nursery, I kept thinking we should buy some nice(r) furniture and linens/curtains and fix it up properly as a spare bedroom. I did buy a new bedspread/comforter for the bed, but that was about it  We haven't lived there for almost five years now, but I still regret that we didn't do something better/nicer with that room while we lived there. It was almost like I was kind of subconsciously punishing myself -- I didn't deserve to have nice things, because I had failed in my original mission of filling that room with babies and baby things. 

I think about the wedding china that sits in the cupboard waiting for a "special occasion" and never gets used. Or the bath salts that a friend gives you that remain unopened because they're just too nice to use for everyday. 

Life is short -- if this past year has taught us anything, I think that would be it. The years go by way too quickly. 

So go to the Santa Claus parade. (Go get your photo taken with him! -- when that's allowed again...!) Send photo cards. Go to the kiddie movie you're secretly dying to see. Go to Disney World, or your local amusement park, and ride the roller coaster. Do something nice with that "nursery."  Use that china, use those bath salts.

Don't think that you have to wait "until we have kids" -- or that you can't or shouldn't do something, just because you're childless. Don't let parents & families monopolize all the fun. (I firmly believe that Christmas is for everyone -- not just for kids, or for people with kids.)  "What will people think?"  Who cares?

We are worth it. 

*** *** *** 

I've written about Christmas photo cards here and here, and Pamela had a great post about them some years back too (with a lively discussion in the comments section!). 

Thinking about Christmas

I was comparing notes about Christmas (and how to survive it) with several other childless bloggers/activists recently. And that got me thinking.

I love Christmas. It's always been my favourite holiday.  But I'll admit Christmas has not always been very joyful, these past 20 years. Those first couple of years after we lost our baby -- and gradually came to the realization there would be no others -- were very hard.

But I've never had the desire to run away from it. I've spent every Christmas of my life with my family, and I'm not about to try to make drastic changes now (especially now that FIL is gone, and my parents are close to 80). I always reasoned that dh's family could (& can) easily see us any other time of the year;  I want to be with MY family at Christmas -- and I'm grateful that's how things have always worked out. (I did secretly think that, perhaps, once dh & I had kids of our own, my parents & sister might come to be with US for a change. We all know how THAT worked out...!)

But even so, our Christmas celebrations have evolved and changed over the years as our family changed. Change is difficult for me -- but I've come to realize that it's inevitable (and not always bad, or as bad as I had feared).

Twenty years ago, I thought my family of origin was expanding. What actually happened: it began to shrink. I lost the baby I was expecting that November, and then my grandparents, one after another, within a year of each other, and eventually I had to face the harsh reality that there would be no new babies joining us, ever.

But at the same time, our chosen family has grown, and enriched our Christmases immeasurably. We've been incredibly fortunate to have Parents' Neighbours' Daughter (PND) spend at least part of every Christmas of her life with our family.  When she was an adorable baby & toddler (and dh & I were newlyweds), she relieved some of the pressure on us to produce a grandchild ASAP. As a young teenager, her cheerful presence helped alleviate some of the sadness of that first Christmas in 1998, when not only was there no baby for Christmas (as my mother rapturously exclaimed when I told her I was pregnant) but also no Grandpa, for the first time in my 37 years (and then the next year, no Grandma either). These days, now in her mid-30s, she's mom to the two Little Princesses, who continue to distract & entertain us and partly fill that grandchild gap.

As my parents have aged, we've continued to gather at their house, but my sister & I have taken on more of the responsibilities for shopping, decorating, and food prep (my sister has learned to make gravy as well as my mom, and I'm told she made the pastry for the butter tarts this year too!) & cleanup. We tend to be sticklers for tradition -- and yet, over the years, some traditions have evolved or been set aside, and new ones adopted. For example, there's a huge mugo pine tree in my parents' front yard that my dad used to decorate with strings and strings of coloured lights. Over the years, he had to start asking his neighbour, my sister's partner and PND's husband to help (teetering precariously on a tall ladder & using a contraption -- a hook on the end of a broom handle -- to maneuver the lights into place). It just got to be too much of a chore, so these days, the lights just frame the doors of the house and cover the shrubs.

As another example, my mother decided she's not decorating two trees this year. Over the past 25-30 years, she's had one upstairs in the living room, with our family's treasured old, traditional ornaments, and one in the family room downstairs that's more of a "designer" tree with mostly silver ornaments, supplemented by others that she received from her students while working at the local school as an aide. She & Dad recently got a big screen TV that takes up a lot of room in the basement;  also, the basement tends to be where the two Little Princesses like to run around.  I told her that while it's nice to have two trees, I'm not sentimentally attached to the downstairs one in the same way that I am with the upstairs one.

Our own tree at home has evolved over the years, too. In the years after we lost our Katie, we bought one ornament for her -- and then another -- and another. We attended the memorial candlelighting service run by our pregnancy loss support group ever year for about 12 years straight, I think, and at each one, we took home a pair of baby booties, handknit by volunteers. Our tree was covered in teddy bear angels, Classic Pooh ornaments from Hallmark, and little white baby booties, lol.  Then, three Christmases ago, we moved to a condo, and bought a slightly smaller tree to fit our smaller space. Not all the ornaments I used to put up fit on the new tree -- so now there's just one representative pair of baby booties instead of the full dozen. I'm not sure I'd have handled that very well 20 years ago, but I'm (mostly) OK with it today.

Once my parents are gone, I don't know what's going to happen to our Christmas celebrations. Will we still head west to be with my sister (assuming she gets a bigger house, because right now, her 600-square-foot house does not accommodate guests very readily)?  Will she come here? Will we try to nose our way into dh's family's celebrations, with BIL & SIL & the nephews and their family?  Will we run away to spend Christmas at a nice ski chalet somewhere (minus the skiing, lol), or try something completely different like a beach? (I absolutely cannot imagine Christmas without snow, but there's always a first time for everything...!)

We'll cross those bridges when we get there (hopefully not for a while yet). Meanwhile, I try to just appreciate what we have right now and help out my parents & sister as much as I can.

I guess if I had one piece of advice to offer, it would be to do whatever you feel inclined to do -- no more, no less. Some years can be better/worse/easier to handle/more difficult than others, when you're grieving your children (whether or not they were ever conceived) -- so don't feel you have to do everything you think you're supposed to be doing, or that others are telling you to do.  And don't feel you have to do the same things you did last year -- whether you did anything last year, or not. Losing Katie (with a November due date) -- plus the fact that November/December was always our busiest time of year at work (fiscal year end reporting) -- meant I had neither the time, nor the energy, nor (quite often, especially those first few years) the inclination to take part in many of the Christmas activities I wanted to immerse myself in -- or felt I *should* be doing. I had to take a good hard look at what was most important to me, and plan my Christmas season accordingly.  I've always enjoyed putting up a Christmas tree, sending cards (staying in touch with far-flung friends & relatives) and going home to see my family -- so I focus on that. Anything else that I have time or energy or inclination or money to do -- more elaborate decorations, baking, Christmas-related outings, parties, etc. -- is gravy. I have more time to do more now that I'm retired -- and the grief is not as intense as it was, 20 years ago -- but that still tends to be my philosophy today, lol.

*** *** ***

If you're looking for further reading on the subject of holiday survival, here are a few posts by some other bloggers/activists to get you started:

• Mel at Stirrup Queens has posted "How to Get From Thanksgiving to New Years When You’re Not in the Mood" -- her annual compilation of advice gathered from bloggers in the ALI community.
• Lisa Manterfield & Kathleen Guthrie Woods of Life Without Baby have produced a LWB Holiday Companion e-book that's available from Amazon for a very reasonable price. 
• Jody Day at Gateway Women offers "4 Tips to Cope with (and even enjoy!) Your Childless Christmas." 
• Lesley Pyne, author of  "Finding Joy Beyond Childlessness," has compiled a Christmas survival guide on her blog (including a list of relevant posts from her blog, as well as posts from other childless/free bloggers). 
• Shannon Norberg at Mothering Your Heart is offering a free online holiday support workshop. Details here. 
• Mali at No Kidding in NZ has a couple of relevant posts, including "Reclaiming Christmas" and "Holiday season: If money were no object." 
• "The truth about being childless, but not by choice, at Christmas" by Sarah Roberts at The Empty Cradle. 
• "Tips on how to support an involuntary childless friend this season" by Berenice at Walk in Our Shoes. 
• "Yes, Virginia, There Are Lovely ‘Fertiles’ Out There" -- a classic post from Pamela Tsigdinos at her original Coming2Terms blog. 
• "My Childlessness is Not My Fault" by Civilla Morgan of Childless Not By Choice. 

*** *** ***

My own past Christmas-related posts are now tagged "Christmas" -- but here are some of the main ones you might want to explore (from the most recent working back):

• Christmas traditions -- an explanation of what Christmas looks like for me & my family (2017) 
• #MicroblogMondays: Tis the season (already??!) -- Christmas photo cards -- with no kids on them. (2017)
• "It came, just the same" -- despite our best efforts, Christmas doesn't go exactly as planned, and change is inevitable.  (2016)
• Oh Christmas tree -- our new Christmas tree reflects the changes in our lives. (2016) 
• #MicroblogMondays: Ghosts of Christmas past -- looking at the Christmas cards I received in 1998, post-stillbirth. (2015) 
• Elf yourself :p  -- The Elf on the Shelf:  one reason I'm glad I don't have kids...!!  (2013)
• TGNO* -- November melancholy is harshing my Christmas spirit. :(  (2013) 
• New Year's Eve -- moments of joy and pain over the holidays. (2012) 
• All hail The Princess!  -- a new baby in the extended family to spoil. (2011) 
• That's a loaded question... -- "worst holiday memory"??  You REALLY want to know??  (2011) 
• Better not pout, better not cry... -- the annual Santa Claus Parade comes with a flood of memories attached to it. (2010) 
• November blahs -- feeling cheated. (2009) 
• Show & Tell: Tis the season -- Christmas cards & other traditions. (2008) 
• Our Katie tree -- using our Christmas tree as a way to remember our little girl. (2007) 
• Santa stuff -- me & Santa over the years. (2007) 
• Worst. Christmas Party. Ever -- looking back to a disastrous Christmas 1998 party experience. (2007) 
• "Christmas is for kids" -- (not!) (2007) 

#MicroblogMondays: Odds & ends

• Last Wednesday (Nov. 14th) was my original due date, 20 years ago (i.e., Katie's might-have-been birthday).  We didn't do anything to mark the occasion -- August 5th-7th is usually the focus of our remembrances.  But of course I thought about her. And marvelled once again: 20 YEARS. 20. YEARS.
• In 20 MORE years, I will be... (gulp)... 78 years old. (fingers in ears: lalalalala....)  
• Anyone see the new Walmart Canada Christmas commercial, with the adorable teddy bear, set to "Bring it on Home to Me"??  I cried the first time I saw it. So cute. I imagine by the time Christmas actually gets here, I will be thoroughly sick of it, but for now... 
• Then there's the Elton John Christmas commercial from England, which doesn't seem very Christmas-y in the beginning ("Your Song," anyone?? -- actually, my favourite Elton song!), but just watch... Also had me in tears. 
• I actually made use of my neglected Netflix subscription on Saturday night to watch "The Guernsey Literary & Potato Peel Pie Society," the movie version of the novel I recently re-read & reviewed here. They changed a few things around to simplify the plot and up the drama.  Amelia is a much more negative character in the movie than she is in the book. Mark Reynolds was an American army/intelligence officer, not a rival publisher, with a much bigger role in the movie than he played in the book, and Juliet actually accepts his proposal in the movie, after rejecting him in the book. I loved Matthew Goode as Sidney.  And Dawsey was much more handsome than I had envisioned him -- not that I minded, lol. The book was (obviously) better, but it was an enjoyable way to spend two hours. 
• We spent Sunday afternoon at the movies watching "Bohemian Rhapsody," the story of Freddie Mercury & Queen.  The reviews have been mixed, and yes, the script is pretty basic -- but the casting is stellar (Rami Malek as Freddie is amazing, and all the guys playing the band members are dead ringers for the real ones) and of course, there's that glorious music. :)  It ends with an almost complete recreation of the band's set at Live Aid in 1985, which gave me goosebumps. (Live Aid took place exactly a week after our wedding, while we were in Calgary, wrapping up our week-long honeymoon in Banff & Jasper before flying to Toronto to start married life.  I don't remember seeing Queen, but we did watch parts of the show, including the opening and closing, from our hotel room.) 
• Sunday was also the Santa Claus Parade here in Toronto -- the original, and still the best!  ;)   I know for some people, Nov. 1st marks the beginning of the Christmas season... for some, it starts after Remembrance Day, for others, after U.S. Thanksgiving, and for others, Advent.  This does it for me. ;)  I won't put the tree up until around Advent, but I'm currently diffusing Saje's Peppermint Twist blend. It's a start. ;)  

You can find more of this week's #MicroblogMondays posts here. 

Right now...

Right now... (an occasional meme): 

Reading:  Mostly online articles via Facebook re: the U.S. election and its fallout. I have several half-started books I need to get back to, including "Jeremy Poldark" by Winston Graham (which, along with the next novel in the series, "Warleggan," correspond with the new season of "Poldark" on PBS right now);  "Canada" by Mike Myers;  and "Mr. Churchill's Secretary" by Susan Elia MacNeil, a mystery set during WWII. And, of course, the to-read pile continues to grow (insert red-faced icon here): I picked up a few more books today, including Robbie Robertson's new memoir, "Testimony."

Watching:  A great new multi-part PBS series called "Soundbreaking," which was shown (on our local station anyway) at 10 p.m. every night last week and will continue part of next week. Apparently, it was a project of the late great Sir George Martin.  Some wonderful stories, footage, and (of course) music. One of the advantage of being retired is being able to stay up "late" to watch programs like this. :)  I might have been able to manage one night of going to bed at 11 when I was working (and getting up before 5), but an entire week would have done me in!

Listening:  To the wind howling outside.. Friday was an unusually (for Nov. 18th!) balmy 18C/64F & we had the balcony door wide open all day. When we woke up this morning, it was -1C/31F and the snowflakes were flying thick and fast. Nothing sticking (yet), but I think we've seen the last of 18C for a while. It was fun while it lasted..!

Drinking:  Water. Haven't been drinking enough of it lately, I think... trying to do better!    

Eating:  Too much junk lately. :p  And the Christmas goodies haven't even started yet!

Wearing:  A cozy cardigan over my T-shirt and yoga pants, and slippers on top of my socks. Brrrr!!

Trying:  Not to cry while watching the Santa Claus Parade on TV this afternoon. I am such a sap...

Searching: For the perfect fake Christmas tree. We got rid of our old one when we moved -- it was still all right, but we'd used it through 18 Christmases (we got it the same year we lost Katie) & it was getting a bit ragged. Plus we think we'd like to get a pre-lit one. Had a look at one store last week, but either the trees were way TOO fake (plastic!!) or the lights weren't to our liking (multicoloured flashing, anyone??).  Dh is indifferent as to whether we have a tree at all, but I love my Christmas tree, and we have four Rubbermaid bins full of decorations in our storage locker downstairs (and this is AFTER I went through & culled my collection...!). The search continues...

Smelling: The lovely, pine-y scent of essential oils in our diffuser. Either the neighbours haven't been smoking as heavily the last few days, or the weatherstripping we installed around the door this week is doing its job. Yay!! (Also: Knocking wood that this continues...!)

Not believing:  That we will be heading home to see my family for Christmas in less than four weeks!!

Contemplating:  What I should write for #MicroblogMondays tomorrow. ;)

Odds & ends

• It's November. And so far, I haven't had the urge to write an "I hate November" post. ;) Of course, the month is young...! But so far, so good. ;)
• November got off to a good start, weatherwise (which helps, of course!). We had several days in a row with sunshine and temps in the 17-20C range. The windows were open (great when you're painting, as we were) and I was outside in my shirtsleeves. IT'S NOVEMBER, people!! In Canada!! I realize this does not bode well in terms of impending catastrophic climate change :p -- but it's still enough of a novelty that I can't help but enjoy it. (Especially knowing that it's bound to be short-lived...!)(Case in point: today is still mild, but rainy & windy.)  
• Our painting/reno project is DONE after 2.5 weeks of living in chaos.  We are now in the middle of a massive (much-needed) cleanup & reorganization, which may take a few days itself.  
• Although we are taking a well-deserved day off today! & heading out for awhile. I've barely been out of the house while this was going on, & have developed a bit of cabin fever... and it's not winter yet...! 
• To date: 53 boxes (and an uncounted number of bags) full of stuff donated to the thrift store, including 33 of books alone.
• Right now all my books are sitting on the basement floor :p -- I had to unshelve them all so that we could move the bookcases away from the wall so it could be painted. I'm going to try to pare them down further as I put everything back over the next several days. Sigh...
• I adore my kitchen. I always have (it's what sold me on the house in the first place), and I am just so happy with the way it turned out. Aside from the new tile backsplash (which IS a big change), nothing too dramatically different -- the walls were already a sort of pale sage green (Benjamin Moore Camouflage) -- I found myself wishing we'd used a darker shade, so that's what we did this time around (Benjamin Moore Herbes de Provence). Goes beautifully with all the dark wood cabinets, wainscoting & trim. We decided to restain the cabinets instead of painting them (or ripping them out altogether -- which was probably a wise decision -- a 2.5 week paint job was stressful enough;  I can't imagine how we would have coped with a full-scale, teardown renovation...!) and added new handles, as well as a new range hood (white, to match the other appliances -- the old one was early-1980s yellow-beige). The cupboards look great -- colour (Minwax Antique Walnut) is very similar to what we had, but richer and brighter, and the stain covers up most of the scuffs & scratches accumulated over 30+ years.    
• I began seeing Christmas ads the day after Halloween. :p  Seriously??!  Can't they wait until after Remembrance Day, or the Santa Claus Parade?  I know I am going to be thoroughly sick of them, well before the big day actually arrives. :p

That's a loaded question...

Mass e-mail from co-worker (edited to remove identifying information):

Hi Everyone!

For our Holiday Party, I am collecting your best/worst/funniest holiday memory.

The Social Committee will be using this information for a fun activity we have planned for the party.

Please try to keep it concise (a line or two at most) and email it to me privately.

If you could send it to me by EOD Friday, that would be great!

*** *** ***

OK, I'm assuming by "worst holiday memory," they are looking for worst/we-can-laugh-about-it-now stories about the time Santa left a lump of coal in your stocking, or you had one too many glasses of eggnog & woke up with a hangover -- that sort of thing.

Because, honestly -- do they REALLY want to hear people's WORST holiday memories?

I mean, let's face it, I love Christmas -- but most people's Christmases, even the best ones, rarely if ever measure up to the Norman Rockwell ideal. And I'm pretty damned sure nobody wants to hear about MY worst Christmas.

Do they REALLY want to know what it's like to be expecting a baby in November -- to have your mother exclaim, when she learns the due date, "A baby for Christmas!!" -- to dream about bringing that baby home for the holidays to her adoring grandparents & great-grandparents -- only to have that dream totally, utterly shattered when the baby is stillborn in August?

Do they REALLY want to know why you can't bear to hear or sing "Away in a Manger" anymore? (especially when, one year, the choir changed the lyrics to include the line, "A baby for Christmas...")

Do they REALLY want to know what it's like to start crying every year while you're watching the Santa Claus Parade, because it brings back memories of your pregnancy & your secret wish that you'd be able to watch the parade from the windows of the hospital (on the parade route) with your newborn daughter in your arms?

Do they REALLY want to know what it's like to go to the mall and be confronted with oodles of toys, impossibly precious holiday clothes at Baby Gap & Gymboree, and a massive lineup of adorably dressed babies & toddlers waiting to see Santa Claus, when you'd give anything to be doing the same thing with your daughter?

Do they REALLY want to know what it's like to lose your grandfather just a few weeks after losing your baby -- the grandfather you adored, secretly thought was Santa Claus, and spent every single Christmas of your life with?

Do they REALLY want to know what it's like to go to your Christmas party -- the one place where you think you're safe & looking forward to kicking back with your co-workers -- only to have the colleague who was pregnant at the same time as you were & due just a few weeks before arrive? WITH her baby girl in tow?? And then be told that not just one, not just two, but THREE other coworkers just announced their pregnancies? (See my post about the Worst. Christmas Party. Ever.) And then leave the party early & spend the next two hours sitting numbly in the train station, waiting for your husband (who is at his party -- this being pre-cellphone days), & reading the same page of your People magazine over & over again, because you keep replaying the night's events over & over again in your head and just can't focus?

Do they REALLY want to know what it's like to decorate the Christmas tree in silence & without smiles or laughter, that first Christmas?

Do they REALLY want to know what it's like, searching for the perfect ornament for the tree to memorialize your stillborn daughter?

Do they REALLY want to know why your entire Christmas tree is now covered in teddy bear angels & Classic Pooh Christmas ornaments that you've accumulated over the past 13 years (hint: the baby's nursery was to have had a Classic Pooh theme)?

Do they REALLY want to know what it's like to read the cards that your mother received from her friends (who obviously haven't heard the news), saying things like, "Congratulations! You're going to love being a grandma!" and "Being a grandmother is the best!" and "How's that grandbaby?"

Do they REALLY want to know what it's like to hear everyone around you mouthing platitudes like, "Christmas is for kids"?

Do they REALLY want to know about how awful it felt to watch your father's face crumble as he started to take the traditional "family around the dinner table" photo, set down the camera & retreated downstairs so that we couldn't see him cry?

I didn't think so.

(For the record, I sent the story about my parents giving me the stereo I had been bugging them about for years -- complete with turntable & cassette deck. It was 1981 (30 years ago, eeek), I was in third-year university and I honestly didn't expect they would ever buy me such an expensive gift (which seems so Little House on the Prairie-ish these days, when I hear about parents buying their kids iPods and iPhones and game systems and television sets and Ugg boots, & taking them to Disney World) -- you can see in the pictures that I'd been crying from shock! They hid it under a roll of carpet in the shower stall of an unfinished basement bathroom in their new house, and sent me on a treasure hunt to find it. I still have it, in my basement, along with all my vinyl albums.)

Odds & ends

• I now have 100 followers!! : ) I have to admit, I've never "followed" anyone myself (insert red-faced icon here) -- I read/follow my regular blogs through my Google Reader (where I have 224 (!!) subscribers)(is there some advantage to being a Blogger follower vs Google Reader subscriber?) -- but I really do appreciate my regular readers & commenters, through whatever medium. : )


• Thanks to all of you who sympathized with my vent about Katie's due date and the anticipation of listening to baby shower talk from the weekend. As almost always happens, the anticipation was worse than the reality... the shower talk was not too horribly excessive (we're too busy at work these days to spend a lot of time standing around chit-chatting), & when it was, I found that rolling my eyes behind the sheltering walls of my cubicle while others talked was a great tension reliever. ; )


• New definition of heartbreak: watching your husband as he wistfully looks on while his cousin's husband dances with their 10-year-old daughter at a recent banquet.


• I got busy yesterday afternoon & didn't watch the Santa Claus Parade this year. Probably just as well, given my history with the parade in recent years. We had the radio on CBC news at noon, & a mere description of the massive crowds lining the route had the tears welling up in my eyes. (Then Stuart McLean finished me off with a story on the Vinyl Cafe, about Dave and the Big Narrows Centennial Baby, which ended with an an ode to community historians & memorykeepers -- something near & dear to my heart. I'd heard the story before, & I don't recall if I cried then too, but I was obviously in the mood.)


• But for some reason, I was able to hit the mall later & shop for PNGD with gleeful abandon. The Children's Place, Baby Gap, Gymboree -- I hit them all (even just a few years ago, I would have avoided them like the plague) & had a blast. I even stopped off to watch the kids with Santa, and didn't even flinch. (Of course, tomorrow I could be a mess doing the same thing... but I'll take my small victories as they come...!)


• I Lost a World stumbled onto a brilliant video this week, which she shares on her blog -- about Christmas cards, infertility, and how we define families. The kicker is that she realized it was done by someone she knew. I know this is an issue that many of us face at this time of year. Go have a look.

Better not pout, better not cry...

Sorry, Santa. The Big Guy is coming to town today, & -- despite the warnings in the song that I'd "better not cry" -- I am (as I am most years on this day) a weeping, melancholy mess.

Since its humble beginnings as a promotion for Eatons department store in 1905, the Toronto Santa Claus Parade has become an institution -- one of the biggest, longest-running & best-known parades in the world -- with more than half a million people lining the 6 km route and millions more watching on television, not only across Canada but in the United States and around the world.

Years ago, when Eatons was the sole parade sponsor, they would load up the floats on a train & take the parade across the country, to Winnipeg and then Vancouver. My mother saw it once, in the early 1950s -- her parents & her brother made the 60-mile trip to Winnipeg on the train for the day -- & she never forgot it.

And when I was about 10, she took my sister & me to Winnipeg for the weekend so that we could see the big Santa Claus parade ourselves. We were living several hundred miles away then, which meant a weekend trip, staying at one of my aunts' houses. We went to the parade with her & several of my cousins, & we had a blast. It wasn't the Eatons parade -- they had stopped the cross-country tour by that point, although they were still sponsoring the Santa Claus Parade in Toronto, right up until just before I moved here -- but it was still a big parade & a big deal, and a great childhood memory. (Funnily enough, my main memory of that day is not so much of Santa, but of seeing local children's entertainer Uncle Bob & Archie, & all the kids hollering, "Uncle Bob! Hi, Uncle Bob!!")

25 years ago, when I was newly married & finding my way around my new city, when the ads & news stories for the parade started in local media, I told dh we were going. "You want to what??" was his reaction, and that of his family members. "The Santa Claus Parade? Really??"

"Darned right," I replied. "All my life, I've watched the Eatons Santa Claus Parade from Toronto on television; now that I'm here, I want to go see it in person."

Dh rolled his eyes but we went. I can't vouch for him, but I had a wonderful time. As the parade climaxed & the jolly old guy in the red suit finally sailed past us, booming out hearty greetings to the children waving to him (these days, he carries a microphone in his hand), I felt tears stinging my eyes. (I'm a sentimental sap, always have been.)

About 10 years later, probably right around the time we were seriously thinking about starting ttc, we went again -- this time with two of dh's cousins, his brother and five pre-schoolers, bundled into snowsuits & warmed by thermoses of hot chocolate. As it was before ttc, stillbirth & infertility, there was no angst involved on my part. It was just all-round, pure fun being able to share this tradition with our two nephews and their cousins, and I am so, so thankful they invited us to share that day with them -- so glad we did it, & that we have those happy memories to look back on.

We haven't been back since then, but I still watch the parade, or parts of it, on television. And it never fails to bring me to tears, especially at the very end, when the band, on cue, starts up with "Santa Claus is Coming to Town," and the jolly old elf sweeps into view on his traditional float (may they never change it) with his 8 tiny prancing reindeer.

I don't even have to watch the parade anymore. Just thinking about the parade can get the tear ducts working these days, it seems. I had to discreetly wipe my eyes on the commuter train into work this week, reading stories about the upcoming parade; yesterday, I had to pull out the Kleenex when I opened the newspaper & found a full-page ad showing the parade route; at lunchtime today, I was making sandwiches when the radio news broadcast a report from the parade route (people had been starting to line the route at 7 a.m.) & dh said, "Yes, we can watch," I had to put down the butter knife & reach for the Kleenex. I have tears rolling down my cheeks right now as I type this, just thinking about it.

Dh looked at me, perplexed, & I just shrugged. "I don't know why," I said. And I've been thinking ever since then: why does the Santa Claus Parade, of all things, get me so weepy? Here a few reasons I've come up with:

• It's Sunday. For another mysterious unknown reason, I often find myself weepy on Sundays. I've done reading on "Sunday night blues" and apparently this is not uncommon. Which is somewhat comforting.
• It is a grey & dreary day, reinforcing a melancholy mood. It's hard to stay weepy when the sky is blue & the sun is shining.
• It's November.
• It was a stressful week at work, & next week is not going to improve.
• I am perimenopausal, & PMS-ing. My hormones are running amok.
• As I said, I a a sentimental sap. The parade reminds me of my childhood -- a more innocent, carefree time, rapidly receding into the past.
• The parade reminds me that I do not have a child of my own to take to the parade and continue the tradition.
• The parade reminds me that I should have had a baby in November & be celebrating a little girl's birthday right about now.
• I remember in 1998, looking forward to the November birth of my daughter, wondering whether I would be in the hospital with her when the parade was on. I had a vision of watching the parade from my hospital room window (the parade route goes by several of the city's major hospitals) with a newborn in my arms.
• We spent part of yesterday with my cousin (who recently moved to this city), his visiting mom (my aunt -- another reminder of my childhood), his wife & their little girl -- whose birthday party is today.
• Being with my relatives, seeing my cousin (whom I remember as a baby) with his own little girl, reminds me of those long-ago days when we were kids together on my grandparents' farm, and how rapidly the years are flying by.
• It reminded me of my uncle, his dad (whom he resembles), who was one of my favourites, & who died far too soon in his early 50s, the age dh is now, leaving my aunt a widow at about the same age I am now.
• For several years, the broadcast would end with Karen Carpenter singing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" over the production credits -- a song & a singer that both have the power to move me to tears.

I can analyze all I want, I guess, but the reality is, there is something about this day & this event that gets me weepy, and I'm not sure if there's anything I can do about it. Or that I WANT to do anything about it. Sometimes a little weep is good for the soul. Pass the Kleenex box, and have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

Glow in the Woods January 7x7

Some thought-provoking, holiday-related questions from the medusas at Glow in the Woods, along with my answers. Follow the link for more answers from other readers.

1 Welcome to 2009. What have you left behind in the year just past? What do you hope to find in the year to come?

Left behind: a full decade of grief and loss and life in the aftermath of stillbirth.

Hoping to find: a greater degree of peace & serenity in my life, and a better sense of purpose as I edge closer towards my (eek) 50s.

2 We've just come through the season in which our culture touts cheer and peace and family togetherness rather relentlessly. How did your child's death impact your experience of the "holiday" season, personally or culturally?

Katie's stillbirth was followed closely by the death of my grandfather, who was the personification of family Christmases for me. So the loss of the Christmases I had envisioned in the future became intertwined with the loss of the Christmases I had always known. In the gap between, a sort of hybrid celebration has sprung up... I cling to those memories of Christmases past, and there's enough surviving elements to be able to carry on as we always have, mingled with melancholy & longing for what once was and what will never be, again or ever.

3 If you celebrate in any way through December, are there ways you include or acknowledge your lost baby/babies?

Katie is ever-present for us during the holiday season. Her due date was in late November, and I've written before about how I had fantasized about watching the Toronto Santa Claus Parade from the hospital window with a baby in my arms. So I can never watch the parade now without that picture in my mind.

We attend our support group's annual candlelighting service.

We decorate Katie's niche at the cemetery.

I usually manage to work in a reference to Katie in our annual holiday letter, and our Christmas card usually features something Katie-related (Classic Pooh, angels, etc.).

Our tree is covered in teddy bear angels, Classic Pooh ornaments, and hand-knit baby booties, in tribute to our little girl.

4 Through the year are there any holidays, seasons, or parts of what were once cherished rituals that have changed for you because of your child's death?

All of them. At GITW, Niobe said, "On almost every holiday and holy day, I realize how alone I truly am" and I thought, "Yes!!" I always find myself bristling at the suggestion that "Christmas is for kids," etc. -- and yet, I have to admit, there is some truth to it. Dh & I often find ourselves very much alone on most holidays during the year. Christmas we do spend with my family, but they live far away, & his brother & father are often busy with inlaws and stepfamilies. So for Easter, Thanksgiving, etc., we are often at loose ends. While the moms I know bustle around & chatter about colouring Easter eggs & designing Halloween costumes, I remain silent. I had looked forward to doing these things with my children... and dh & I do some traditional things (e.g., we always carve a Halloween pumpkin), but they aren't vested with quite the same anticipation or enthusiasm as they would be if we had a 10-year-old around.

5 Do you do anything to remember your baby/babies' birth and/or death day? Or will you?

We have several rituals we usually carry out for August 7th. In most years past, I have published an "In Memoriam" in the local newspaper (although I'm debating whether I'll do it every year, now that 10 years have passed). We make a donation to our pregnancy loss support group. I take the day off work, if it's a work day, and go through Katie's box of things. We take pink roses to the cemetery. And we order in Chinese food for dinner, in remembrance of what we did the night we arrived home from the hospital.

6 Is there anything about the winter season (for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere right now) that lifts your spirits? Is there anything that especially brings them down?

I grew up on the Canadian Prairies, so Christmas (or my birthday) doesn't seem quite the same without snow (lots of snow!) around. Those first few snowfalls can be magical. And I love Christmas -- the music, the lights, the decorations, the party clothes, the traditions (the food!!), the generosity.

But -- while I can enjoy, or at least put up with winter, over Christmas and through my birthday season, by February, I've had enough. The Toronto area can be kind of grey & slushy during the winter, which I find terribly depressing. I get lots of jokes about my home province & how cold it is, but, honestly? I often find it preferable. Back "home," the sun is usually shining (even if it IS minus 30C outside -- without the windchill factored in...!), & (outside the city, at least) things are white and sparkly, and the snow crunches underfoot -- a sound I miss.

Also, while I love Christmas -- the IDEA of Christmas -- the reality is (a) linked so closely to my daughter, it can't help but be tinged with some sadness, and (b) it's year-end at work, so I don't usually have the time to enjoy it and take everything in the way I would like to. Sigh.

7 During your hardest times, how have you found your way forward?

By leaning on my dh. And on my friends, especially those I've made through my IRL support group and online forums. By writing. By being really good to myself. By taking yoga classes (helps me keep the anxiety at bay... sometimes...!). By realizing that many women have trod this path before me, and eventually, I will find my own way too. By realizing that I am a person of value and worth, no matter what my reproductive capabilities (& if others can't see that, well then, too darned bad). And that I am a mother, just not to a child here on this earth.

November: The cruellest month

T.S. Eliot wrote that "April is the cruellest month." Now, for me, February has always been my least favourite month -- cold & dreary, and right in the middle of that loooonnngggg stretch between Christmas & Easter with no long weekends to break up the monotony (although Ontario's new Family Day holiday may now help in that regard!).

But when I think of "the cruellest month," for me, it has to be November. November was always my second-least-favourite month -- cold and grey and dead -- redeemed somewhat by the Remembrance Day bank holiday and the promise of Christmas to look forward to -- although tempered by the mad year-end rush at my workplace (fiscal year end October 31st, year end results released late November/early December, followed by annual report, annual meeting in March, etc. -- all of which involve me.).

Back in 1998, I had something to look forward to in November. I was 37 years old, married 13 years and, after some 2.5 years of trying to conceive, finally pregnant! & due November 14th (later revised to November 20th, & then 25th). I fantasized about being able to watch the Toronto Santa Claus Parade from the window of my hospital room with my baby in my arms. But when November finally came around, there was no baby. Our daughter, Katie, was stillborn in August when I was 26 weeks along. I went back to work in October (even though I could have stayed off until December -- long story) and so, instead of enjoying the first few days of motherhood & maternity leave (thus escaping the year-end hell at the office), I found myself back at my desk, trying to focus on my work instead of what had just happened to me, & resenting every minute of it.

Now, nine years later, I still feel twinges of sadness instead of joy when the Santa Claus Parade is on TV -- and as I run around at work & try to squeeze in some Christmas planning, I keep thinking that I should be planning a little girl's birthday party too. Life is unfair. :( And November is a month that I am glad to see go by quickly.