Holidays are hard

My friends who know me best have learned to understand, and some even appreciate, my scatterbrained, run in all directions at once personality. Watching me throughout a day is much like reading stream-of-consciousness writing. I seem to get a lot done, but it is very much If You Give a Mouse a Cookie style and not so much Henny Penny methodical. Add to that three teenage boys who need help with Math and a toddler who needs to be extracted from multiple situations a day and the chaos of my mind starts spinning at warp speed. I still have not gotten on a good routine of writing regularly. I am the worst blogger. I try to get it together, but always seem to be behind. And then there are the holidays.

December 1, 2014 I found out that I was pregnant with our fourth child. On January 5, 2015 I started having complications and we lost that baby at the end of the month. I had to undergo two surgeries after that, one with a very long recovery. The 2015 holidays were hard for me. The due date for our baby passed. Friends and family had children around the same time and when I saw them over the holidays it was hard because all I could think about was our baby who wasn’t in my arms. Early October of 2016 I found out I was pregnant again. After all that we had just been through we wanted to keep this to ourselves until the first trimester was over. The 2016 holiday season was full of mixed emotions. I was excited about another addition to our family but held it lightly because I also anticipated more potential hurt. Thankfully, despite some pretty serious prenatal complications, the G-man was born happy and healthy. When he was two months old however, he developed a hernia that required surgery. Also, during my high risk pregnancy and after his birth I had noticed some changes in a lump on my left breast (that a doctor had previously said was most-likely just fibrocystic). Because of everything that was going on with our little man, I put it on the backburner. As we approached the holidays in 2017 I knew something was bad wrong but I didn’t want to ruin it for my kids. I made an appointment for January 3, 2018 – and on that day it was confirmed for me that I did have cancer. That Friday, the 5th, 3 years to the day after being told we would lose our fourth child, I was told that it was stage 3B, locally advanced and spread to at least one lymph node. I would need a mastectomy, chemotherapy, and radiation. Needless to say, December is a hard month for me – I love the Christmas season, but I have a sense of trepidation that January is coming.

I read a book last year about PTSD and how our bodies physically remember traumatic events – it is not just a mental act. I have always been fascinated with the mind-body connection and this book did an excellent job of fleshing some of those ideas out specifically in the area of trauma. Our bodies hold on to traumatic events even when we think our minds have gotten past them. I have come a long way in healing from the hurt of losing a baby and being diagnosed with cancer – I feel like I am in a good place in how I process it all. However, there are days when I will break down out of what seems like nowhere. Sometimes I feel very tight and anxious inside and notice (or have it pointed out to me) that I am being very testy with everyone. Other times I want to hide out in my bedroom and nap or watch Netflix for no apparent reason. I can’t always put a finger on why I am having a hard time some days – there seems to be no apparent trigger. My body “remembers” more than I do. It is still healing. And I am learning to accept that even though I can’t understand or explain it all. In the great words of Chris Stapleton there are some things to which “we’re not meant to know the answers, they belong to they by and by.” (Interesting fact, that song, Broken Halos was written about a friend of his who passed away from pancreatic cancer, he was 38)

As this year’s holiday season is upon us, I’m back to the marble cake of emotions. But instead of being frustrated with myself for not being overwhelmingly full of Christmas cheer all the time, I am learning to appreciate the mixture. It is perfectly normal for grief, joy, sadness, elation, somberness, warmth, cheer, and glee to all coexist. While I was very thankful that I was able to cook for my family on Thanksgiving, I felt bad for being the reason that we couldn’t be around the extended family that day. While I love my children’s excitement about getting all of the Christmas decorations out, it makes me feel bad that it is also overwhelming and I have to go hide in my room during part of it. The other day I watched a video of G-man in 2018 when we first turned on the Christmas tree, his eyes bugged out and he squealed with excitement at watching the spectacle for the first time. While I smiled just as wide as he was smiling in the video, I was simultaneously sad that I had no memory of that whatsoever (thanks chemo) – BUT I am thankful that I do have videos of it and that I am still alive to watch him terrorize the tree this year. I got giddy picking out Christmas presents for my friend Travanna’s kids – and again felt grief that she wasn’t here to be a part of it all. In all of these instances, I have been truly joyful, truly thankful that the Lord has allowed me to enjoy these moments in life. At the same time though, the heavy parts still exist. I used to think that when you entered a hard season of life or were experiencing a difficult event that it was something you just had to live through, get past. I don’t think that so much anymore. The past five years and all of the hardships I have been through have shaped me more than any other time in my life. The new friends I have made at the hospitals, and other places that I wouldn’t have been had I not been a cancer patient are some of the best friends I have now. The way existing relationships deepened – I wouldn’t trade any of that for a cancer-free life. How could I? I have seen God more clearly and fully in these years than ever before – how could I besmirch these hardships? It’s not happy OR sad, it’s both.

Today I took the boys for eye exams (all have wonderful vision btw) in Augusta. When we finished we went upstairs to the BMT floor to deliver some more cozy goodies for the patients. They got to see my “home” from this summer. I got to visit a couple of patients and give them some things. One was a mom with a newborn upstairs while she received chemo two floors below. It broke my heart for her! I wanted her to be home snuggling that newborn! And at the same time I was thankful that I had my four down the hall with me – attitudes and all – and would be hugging them in minutes, not days. It was happy and sad. And then it hit me on the way home as all my thoughts were swirling in my head as they often do – isn’t this just the gospel?! When we think of Christmas, when we ponder the wonders during Advent season, isn’t that what happens then? We anticipate the birth of Christ, what a joyous event! A saviour is coming! Sin is being put underfoot! We no longer have to fear bearing the consequence of our failings! But at the same time, we know what comes next. We know that sadness is coming. We know this high will be followed by the foreboding reminder of His death on the cross.

So must we chose? Do we remain somber now? Do we deny ourselves joy because we know sadness is on its way? Or do we pretend that the sadness isn’t there and just flounce merrily about, just shoving it to the back of our mind? Think about that. If pressed, we can’t really choose between the two – they are both necessary. The same holds true when we contemplate Christ’s death at Easter. There is extreme sadness when we reflect on His persecution and death on the cross, but at the same time we are joyful because without that we would not have any hope. It is a constant tension – juxtaposing both extremes actually illuminates each one. My hope is more sweet when I at the same time reflect on the price that was paid for me to have it. The grief is more bearable when I see the love surrounding me while I’m in the midst of it. We are in the already, waiting for the not yet.

As we all head into the holiday season, let’s give each other and ourselves some grace here. Holidays are hard. We are tired. There are so many expectations coming from all directions. There are A LOT of emotions. But instead of trying to find time for each one of the emotions, or shoving some in the closet because they don’t seem appropriate for a particular occasion, let’s invite them all to the party! Give grief it’s place at the table, and enjoy the fond memories it brings along with it. Let your weakness bring a side dish, it will make your strengths shine as the main course. Let your tension be the Cousin Eddie of the party – and enjoy a good laugh on him, don’t take him too seriously. The same salt that stings your wound also brings out all of the flavors in your favorite dessert. Embrace the hard, it will only make the sweet that much sweeter.