Sarah’s wordsEugh! Christmas again. OK, I’m going to be completely open and say this coming Christmas is one that I’m feeling very ‘meh’ about. On the one hand I’m not dreading it, as I used to, but on the other I’m not really engaging with it this year. No tree, no decorations, and no real feeling of celebration as I did last year. I wrote a blog post way back in 2018 about this very thing, shortly after the year anniversary of my hysterectomy. I read it now and I can see the pain and the loss that I felt around Christmas and those of the past. I mean I gloss over it, but there is a grief around the Christmases of my childhood when there was so much family and connection. And I still feel that now, despite having moved on emotionally from where I was then. It’s something we touched on this in the podcast when we spoke about why Christmas is hard and how we still feel about it, because of the emotions associated with not having children at a very pronatalist time of the year. Would that we could all have a miracle birth eh! And I think much of the struggles with this time of year centre around how we feel we must turn up and behave. Included in that Oscar winning performance for family and friends are mountains of expectations, around the appropriate amount of ‘fun’ we’ll have, that we won’t upset anyone else by being anything but happy, and that we’ll be able to bestow a beautiful, generous smile upon all the children we encounter à la Maria from the Sound of Music. I’m exhausted just imagining it as I type this out to be honest… So, is it any wonder many of us would rather not have to engage with this, while we wrestle with who we are and our assorted griefs around this time of year? And that is probably why people are asking for answers in terms of how to get through Christmas. I have done webinars around this for Gateway Women, which have provided some of the techniques that some of us have used, such as buying gifts for ourselves or making our own traditions. And yes, these do help. However, what about longer term, how do we get to that place where we can have the Christmas we want? That’s the million-dollar question isn’t it, because my quiet Christmas away from people, might be something that you’d dread because you’d rather be able to be around children and not feel the feelings. Perhaps buying yourself something just re-emphasises those sad memories from childhood. Or perhaps you’ve turned your back on your faith and Christmas brings up the complex grief of not being able to hold on to that comfort as you once did. And I think that’s been one of the steepest learning curves for me, as this time of year has become quite the trigger, and a complex one at that. Which is why when we talked about it, we couldn’t offer the ‘one-size-fits-all’. A frustrating outcome given that I’d have loved to have had that neat answer back in 2018. That being said though, much of the stresses I mention here around the expectations centre on our confidence to have boundaries, lean into saying no, when we mean no, and being able to sit with disappointment from the other people involved in you putting that boundary in place. This is not easy when we’re wrestling with the ‘shoulds’ around those expectations and the huge knock to our confidence in not being able to have children. It takes courage and being able to sit with those complex feelings of shame, guilt and anger, when we advocate for ourselves and are met with general bafflement, disappointment and sometime even anger from the other people that just don’t get it. And in some instances, those boundaries mean having to go to something that we don’t want to but leaving promptly when we hit our threshold. And there’s a grief (another bloody grief) in that too, because if we’d had children, we’d likely be in the thick of it, celebrating Christmas wholeheartedly with our family, whatever that looks like. But, if this Christmas isn’t the one where you can say no, or implement those new traditions, I want you to know, (a deep understanding and knowing because I have been there), that it’s OK to go along with things and then need time to fall apart. It has to be within your limits of what feels do-able, and there’s always next year, with another 12 months of learning and grieving that may allow you to say no then. It’s not about perfection, it’s just about accepting what you can do. Whatever you do this Christmas though, I wish each and every one of you a peaceful and restful one, whatever that looks like for you. Sarah x
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