You know, gratitude is one of those topics that everyone seems to cover eloquently. This year, I decided to skip it. Maybe it’s because I feel like an “ugly American” or perhaps I’ve become as entitled as the younger generation. Honestly, it could also be that my friends are doing such a fantastic job discussing it that I don’t see the need to add to the noise. Take my buddy Mark, for example; he writes beautifully about finding gratitude in life’s challenges. Or Sarah, who captures the essence of being thankful even when your heart is heavy. They’ve got it covered, and I’m just over here feeling a bit out of touch.
A Moment of Realization
As I dug out the Christmas decorations this year, I stumbled upon something I had thought was lost for good. It took several years to rediscover this particular ornament. Instead of feeling grateful, I was hit with a wave of mixed emotions. The ornament, an angel, holds dates I despise. What I didn’t realize is that my partner, Jake, shares my disdain for it. Every year, he hides it as soon as it’s found, while I long to hold it and remember. This time, however, I found it first. As I traced my fingers over the ornament, memories flooded back.
My eldest daughter, Mia, often asks why there’s such a gap between her and her little sister. To her, baby number two isn’t just a sibling; she’s baby number six. One year, I felt she was old enough to understand, so I explained that she has more siblings in heaven than she’ll ever know. We lost three babies before her, and when I saw the ornament this year, I realized I had overlooked one—I forgot about the fourth. How could a mom forget her child?
Embracing the Pain and The Joy
That ornament held four dates, and my heart raced as I pondered which one I had let slip from my memory. 2008 was especially tough; we lost two babies that November, right around Thanksgiving. I can still remember being in the hospital, filled with hope one moment and despair the next. One of them had normal chromosomes, and doctors believed we should have held her. In those moments, I felt the weight of loss so deeply. I shared this with Mia, and as I did, a wave of tears came over me. She wrapped her arms around me and said, “Oh, Mommy,” reminding me that I wasn’t alone in this grief.
While I’m not grateful for the pain or the loss, I am thankful for the different perspective that has emerged. Our youngest, Ellie, is about to celebrate her birthday, a joyful milestone after so much heartache. After her birth, we decided that our family was complete. No more injections or anxious wait times, just the relief of knowing we could finally be thankful for life. Her existence gives us space to remember the ones we lost without dwelling on the sorrow. As Jake wisely said, “They’re in heaven. The ones who matter most are here with us.” That thought fills me with gratitude.
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Summary
In a season where gratitude is often preached, I found myself grappling with feelings of ungratefulness. Through the poignant reminder of a lost ornament, I was forced to confront the pain of loss while also embracing the joy of life. My journey has taught me that while I may not always feel grateful for the hardships, I can appreciate the lessons they bring and the love that remains. If you’re navigating similar waters, remember that you’re not alone.
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