Firsts

To start off, Happy Thanksgiving!! I wish it was a little more happy for our family. The weeks (ok, maybe months) leading up to the start of the three big holidays for our family, Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas, I have been anxiety ridden. I knew, as soon as they all started, I'd have to watch everyone else, with their new little ones, experience their first holidays, while I sat there and watched, pretending to be happy, and crumbling on the inside.

First up, Halloween. I always buy the kids matching Halloween shirts and matching Halloween PJ's. I stress over Halloween costumes, making sure each kid gets to pick out that perfect costume that is just right for them and their particular interests at the time. However, as I was walking around stores with Sarah, Luke and Taylor, helping them choose their costumes, I couldn't help but feel cheated. I saw so many cute little baby girl costumes, and I couldn't buy one of them for Ellie. I couldn't get that picture of all 4 of my children in their matching shirts. I couldn't get the picture of all 4 of my children getting ready to go trick or treating at my mom's house, with their aunt and uncle. I couldn't buy her a little pumpkin to go with our 5 big ones, that would represent her chubby little cheeks and body. I couldn't watch her little face and hands squinch and squirm with disgust and delight, as she felt pumpkin guts for the first time, and then tried to eat them, as all children do. I wanted to make it special for Sarah, Luke and Taylor, but it was all a lie, because I wasn't interested in celebrating anything.

Next up, Thanksgiving. A few weeks ago, I brought it up to Allan, that we usually go to St. George for Thanksgiving, but I was uneasy about going. I didn't want to go there, and see all of the babies that were born this year (and there were a lot!) get to experience their first taste of turkey and gravy, and watching them smear mashed potatoes all over their faces, while their mothers try to figure out how to get this instant glue off of their, once, beautiful child's face and body, and clothes. I didn't want to see all of the aunts and grandma's try to get all of the new cousin's together, to get a big group shot of the little cuties. I just wanted it to all go away. BUT, Allan hasn't been to St. George in over a year to see his family, and I really wanted to just push through it and get up there, so he can be with his family, no matter what. However, around Halloween time, I broke my tail bone, making it incredibly painful to drive anywhere, especially for an hour and a half. But, I told Allan I wanted to go, and we will just play it by ear. My dear, sweet husband, knew I was really struggling with the holidays, put his foot down, and said, "No. We can go up later." He told me he had had some of the same feelings, and didn't want to watch that either, and he didn't want me to be in pain for so long, just for him. So we opted to have Thanksgiving with my mother and her family. Last night, as we were going to bed, Luke and Taylor had a bit of a cough, but nothing that cold medicine wasn't calming, so I wasn't worried. But, I was worried about Allan. He came down with their cold, and wasn't doing so hot. So, it was in the back of my mind that Thanksgiving dinner may not happen at all. But, this morning, we woke up, and everyone was falling apart, except for Sarah and I. Not to mention, Allan came down stairs, sat in the recliner, and just started to sob. I came over and sat on his lap and snuggled him. He missed his other little girl, for the same reasons I was. I can't say I was too disappointed to be staying home today. However, playing nurse is not my forte, along with taking care of the kids morning, noon and night, with no help or break for 2 days.

As the day came to a close, and the kids got their baths and were set for bed, I went down stairs to clean up a bit of a mess. I stood, in the kitchen, feeling completely depleted and defeated, and just sobbed myself. I kept thinking of my boys playing in the bath, and how much fun it would be to have their 10 month old little sister in the bath, playing with their toys, laughing with them. I thought about getting the boys out of the tub, and getting each of them dried off, and pajama'd up, and knowing that there is one more that should need that same service too.

Finally, Christmas. Christmas is going to kill me, I think. I'm trying so hard to be excited about Christmas, as I usually am. I always decorate the house, nag Allan to put up the lights, go over board with shopping for presents, and go crazy at every store I go to, buying more Christmas decorations, preferably snowmen. As with Halloween, and Thanksgiving, the kids get their holiday must haves, shirt, pj's and Christmas outfit. This year, however, I'm pushing myself so hard to care. I'm so glad I was smart enough to get my shopping done early. Because if I had to do all of my shopping now, with this attitude, my kids would never know Christmas came and went in our house. I don't care about any of it. Because it's another First. There's another reminder of what she would be doing, for the first time, and I won't get to see it. Her brothers and sister won't get to do any of it with her. One of my favorite things, for Christmas, is getting that picture with Santa. Each of the kids has their first picture with Santa (usually done at Bass Pro Shop. HA!)......I will never have that. The thing that hurts the most, is when I was doing my shopping for this year's Christmas, I was pregnant with Ellie, not knowing if she was a boy or a girl. I bought her presents that I thought she would like at the age she would be. I still have them, and will never get to see her open them. I will never get to see her big sister show her how to do everything, and make her giggle and belly laugh.

I hope that next year, these feelings will be slightly lessened. I hope I will find more joy, than sorrow, in the trials life has brought to me to handle. For the next few months, I would like to just roll over in bed, pull the covers over my head, hope that everyone has forgotten about me, and not get out of bed. Next year, I hope my children will know that their mommy loves them, because I feel like lately, I've been dealing with so many things, emotionally, physically, and spiritually, that I don't have a lot of feeling left for anything or anyone else. I don't hug them enough. I don't praise them enough. I don't make them feel special enough. I don't play with them enough. I never wanted my children to ever become a trial in my life, like I hear so many women at church say. But I feel like they have lately, and I hate myself for that. I don't want to yell anymore, and fight with them anymore, and feel guilty anymore because of a spanking or time outs. They are the constant reminders that my body failed to give them another little person to run around with, play swords with, be loud with, fight with, teach things to, and love on. I don't want to constantly feel like I'm pushing myself along, every day, to stay motivated to be a good wife, mother and daughter. I want to be that again, just easily, as before. I don't want to beat myself up, and question myself, and blame myself anymore. I don't want to fake happiness every day. I want to just be happy.

These next months are going to be the hardest of my life, so far. It's going to come with a lot of uncontrollable, ugly cries. People will have to just be understanding, and know that there is nothing they can do, except for listen to that small voice that says, "Laurie might need a friend today", and act upon it, and give a hug. It's a strange thing wanting everyone to leave you alone and forget you exist, but at the same time, feeling lonely, and wishing someone would just notice, and wanting them to just give you a hug, and let you cry. I'm not sure how to sort that one out.

While these next few months will be the hardest, but hopefully, out of all of the tears and pain, a new little man will enter the world, reminding me of his angel sister, and help me to realize, once again, that it's all ok, and life is good, and beautiful. Hopefully, I will feel all of those things I wish so desperately for, again, and things will rebuild. But for now, I sure miss her, and want her here.