Living in the Shadows

I miss her.

I thought, I really did, that in some way the new girls would fill the hole left by her absence. They don't. They are loved equally in a way that is every bit as rich and as deep as the love we had for her, but we miss her. They are not her. The space in our family is uniquely Jazzy sized.

This season is hard and I have written about it before. Everywhere is tinged with memories of THAT Christmas. The Christmas we shared with her. And I know, or hope, that she is having a wonderful Christmas somewhere else today. But I miss her.

I put her dress on another baby today. Another baby of mine. To take to the same event that I took her. In the same place, on the same night except it's exactly three years apart.

My arms were full of my baby girls and I was surrounded by my sons and I felt her absence. Across the building from me sat the woman who took her away. There she sat. Angry, sad and alone. The baby, my baby, now her little girl, absent from both of us tonight. By her choice, by my lack of choice.

I wonder if the girls feel it at times. Miss Curious knows her by name, but only in pictures. "Azzy and Aden" she says pointing at the picture on the fridge of Jazzy and Caden. She wears a hat out to play in the snow that the boys still call Jazzy's. They wear her clothes, I don't want the memory of her loss to tinge my freedom to love these girls, but it does. The pain is too real, the memory of the agony too fresh. The real fear that one day, one Christmas, I will be grieving for them too presses in on me. I am not sure I can survive it again.

But we make new memories. Two babies wearing their Santa Dresses to the Christmas Concert. Two babies staring in awe at the tree. I miss Jazzy. I miss Christmas Past, but I will enjoy Christmas Present.

Not so Christmasy Thoughts

I was doing pretty good. "Fake it 'til you Make it" my tightly gripped motto. But just below the surface runs every loss, hidden but felt acutely if paid any attention. And there are many; Grandmother, Mother, Daughter, Aunt, Friends and Family.

We all do the same, and certainly my hopes and desires for a fun filled season making memories with my kids try to push the loss, the grief, and anger away. I suppose expectations simply set you up for disappointment, because everyone else is trying to do the same and they are fallible too.

Today, disappointment of reality rips away the scab and I feel raw. Sad. Christmas spirit? Lost. So for a moment I will wallow in every loss, feel it, acknowledge its presence in the very essence of who I really am and then pull myself up by the bootstraps and fake myself a Very Merry Christmas for the sake of my boys.

We leave in a few short hours for 5 days of intensive family time. It will be good DAMMIT and anyone who messes with my expectations goes on the naughty list - FOREVER.

Thanks to Nicole for posting this on her blog. Special thoughts and prayers to my friends in the adoption community who feel a particularly difficult sort of loss at this time of year.


River by Joni Mitchell (Performed by Sarah McLachlan)


It’s coming on Christmas
They’re cutting down trees
They’re putting up reindeer
And singing songs of joy and peace
Oh I wish I had a river
I could skate away on

But it don’t snow here
It stays pretty green
I’m going to make a lot of money
Then I’m going to quit this crazy scene
I wish I had a river
I could skate away on

I wish I had a river so long
I would teach my feet to fly
Oh I wish I had a river
I could skate away on
I made my baby cry


He tried hard to help me
You know, he put me at ease
And he loved me so naughty
Made me weak in the knees
Oh I wish I had a river
I could skate away on

I’m so hard to handle
I ’m selfish and I’m sad
Now I’ve gone and lost the best baby
That I ever had

Oh I wish I had a river
I could skate away on
I wish I had a river so long
I would teach my feet to fly
Oh I wish I had a river
I made my baby say goodbye


It’s coming on Christmas
They’re cutting down trees
They’re putting up reindeer
And singing songs of joy and peace
I wish I had a river
I could skate away on

Ghosts of Christmases Past

Without question, Christmas brings back memories for so many people, our kids included. But for us moms it does too.

We decorated our tree this week bringing out ornaments from my own childhood, ornaments that the boys brought with them from St. Louis when they joined our family, ornaments that have been gifts over the years from friends and family. Silly preschool and primary ornaments always take center stage on our tree.

And then we brought out THE ornament.

There is nothing overly fancy about this ornament. It appears to be a simple blue ball with a place to slide a picture into. The face smiling out is a baby girl wearing a Santa Hat. You might notice a button on the back, and if you press that button you would hear the voices of 6 children wishing you a Merry Christmas. Yes, 6. Our 4 boys, our precious Baby J and her uncle that was also with us two Christmases ago.

Last year, putting up THAT ornament caused me to sit on the corner of the couch and weep for hours, eventually just putting myself to bed with a "headache". This year, the tears came, but not enough to ruin the entire evening. But the ache is constant. The memories are constant. Memories of a Christmas season that was so much fun and so full of hope, yet with a beginning of a shadow looming over us all. I think, deep down, maybe I knew the pain that was to come.

And come it did. And now, those Ghosts of Christmas Past bring good memories, painful memories and a remembrance of one who is missing.

But you know, all those tears are worth it to have that ornament on the tree. I can't imagine my life without the pain and joy that were that time of my life. But God knows how hard it is.

This is the only "family" picture of all 7 of us from that Christmas I have. I found it on my husband's company website several months later when the mere sight caused a week of emotional breakdowns. We have innumberable pictures of the kids from that season, or J and I, or Shel and J but this is the only picture of us all. It means alot.