When Holidays Are Not Happy Days

My birthday came and went last week and to be honest, the day was less than mediocre.  To say I was disappointed would be an understatement.  More than one person told me they just didn’t know what to do and afterwards I was left to examine my own expectations. 

 

I’ve never been one for lots of hoopla.  I hate being the center of attention.  I am most comfortable hanging out with the people I love and often find that my version of a good time isn’t quite everyone else’s cup of tea.  My birthday has become a little more “complicated” in the last few years since we lost our third daughter right at this time of year.  We found out that she had passed in utero the day before my birthday and I delivered her the day after.  I can’t even tell you what I’ve done on my birthday the last couple years so I’m not even sure the feelings that I’ve conveyed to others.

As I came to terms with our daughter’s passing, I began to look forward to having a reason to celebrate during the dreary winter season.  I think it helped that last year we started an annual family tradition to remember our angel baby.  Since I knew exactly how and when we would commemorate our baby girl, I didn’t feel selfish or disrespectful about taking time for me the day before.

Even so two other factors complicated the situation.  One is that I’ve always been keenly aware of dates.  I can rattle off most of my family’s and extended family’s birthdays without batting an eye.  I associate things in life by what major event occurred near that time.  So I’m not exaggerating when I talk about these dates.  They are part of how my brain works and how I tick.  Even the option of a half-birthday is off the table since I got pregnant with number three then.  The second problem is having no wiggle room in the schedule.

And that is how things started to go awry.  For convenience we were planning to celebrate with a birthday lunch at my favorite restaurant (75 miles away) the day before my birthday.  When an unexpected conversation that morning forced me to acknowledge it was the anniversary of baby girl’s passing, the person I was talking to mistakenly assumed that the big lunch in the city was to honor our little angel.  I know it was an honest mistake and I’m not upset with the person.  I didn’t even make a point to correct the assumption, but it did seem to put a damper on the festivities.  I also noticed that I started to anticipate the next day more when it was legitimately “my” day.  I felt like a fraud.  I will never be able to compete with a dead baby, my dead baby.  She will always be more important than my own celebrations and honoring her memory is essential for me.  I also realize though that I need to find equilibrium and simply not celebrating my birthday for the rest of my life seems pretty unbalanced. 

So what were/are my expectations?

·         Although we were both up at 4 am with a vomiting child who had indulged in too much junk food the day before, I would have liked for us both to wake up on time so that I could have had a relaxing morning shower before we had to rush out the door.

·         My favorite moments have always involved spending time with my family.  I’m happiest when I can spend time with them, even if it’s as simple as playing board games or having a movie night as long as it’s been planned ahead of time and not just an afterthought. 

·         I want to hear from my extended family, but I hate forced or reminded conversations.  It’s important to me to know who remembers and please communicate with me the way we normally do.  If we usually text then text, but if generally talk on the phone then call.

·         Considering the early wake up call, an undisturbed nap would have been nice.

·         A cake I didn’t have to bake myself at the end of the day would have been appreciated.  German Chocolate is my favorite on my birthday.  The rest of the year I prefer some variation of vanilla.

·         If the weather had been nicer, a jog outside would have done my soul good.  When the day headed into a downward spiral, I should have remembered that a drive in the country with my camera would lift my spirits.  (For my hubby, help me remember this.  When I’m upset, I can’t think straight.)

·         I always appreciate cards or emails with heartfelt messages.

·         I’m not a huge fan of gifts, but I am extremely grateful for the ones I receive.  I struggle with accepting monetary gifts from people who could use the money more than me.  Having been raised to write thank you notes, I’ve found that I almost dread presents because I haven’t had time lately to express my appreciation the way I would like.  At this stage of life I just can’t keep up with all of mine and particularly my kids’ birthday, Valentine’s, Easter, Halloween, and Christmas gifts.  My favorite gifts though are usually things that I can’t get for myself (think homemade) or things that show that a person truly knows me.  I was incredibly touched that my sister remembered my favorite kind of salsa at Christmastime.  It doesn’t have to big, being genuine is key.

Writing all of this down hasn’t necessarily been easy.  I tackled this task for those who expressed feelings about not knowing how to approach the day.  Just today I came across a Facebook post that asked, “Why Complicate Life?”  Among the many questions listed, one stuck out:

“Wanna be Understood?.......Explain”

Taking myself out of the equation, I think the day served as an important reminder of how easy it is for me to categorize other hurting people as impossible, demanding, and hard to love.  Unless they’ve asked otherwise, giving them “space” might only make them feel more isolated.  And doing something, even if I’m unsure of “the right thing,” is better than doing nothing at all.