Christmas Eve is one of my favorite days of the year – the warmth, the quiet and the anticipation. Presents are wrapped and strew about the house in piles, still waiting to be placed under the tree. Dinners and desserts being baked. Movies or music on in the background, the lights lit up on houses, the fireplace blazing.
I didn’t sleep well, but spent part of the morning in bed reading The Fellowship Of The Ring. My mother-in-law took us out for mani/pedis. The guys are picking up lunch. We plan on watching a Christmas movie this afternoon and then I am hoping for a nap before going out tonight to a family party.
My cycle is starting over, which is a good thing for my health, but brings with it its own underlayers of feelings. I dreamed of telling our families about my pregnancy this week, not of having my period overlap the full moon. I dreamed of wearing a red flannel dress I saw in Target’s maternity section, not fitting into my normal jeans. I dreamed of little jokes like “Baby’s first airplane trip” not wondering who knows about what we’ve gone through this year.
But it’s good to be home, surrounded by people who know us and love us. There’s only so much anyone can do for anyone else when they’re grieving [every experience is different ] but being around our families is a helpful change from being at home.
There is a stark difference between how I pictured this holiday and how it’s actually going, but I’m still here, trying to find joy in the present. Christmas Eve, home for the holidays.