the first holiday without him

Today is my birthday. I know, it’s not a real holiday. But it’s a day where we get together with family (twice), and it feels like a holiday.

And wow, it’s hard. I smile, and hug my kids and my husband and my family. And I blow out the candle and make a wish. But he’s there, right in the front of my mind. I can’t stop thinking about Oliver, and how he should be HERE. I’m not supposed to be celebrating without him here with me. This isn’t right. It’s not how it was supposed to be.

How can I even fucking celebrate anything? What wish could I possibly make, other than wishing he was in my lap? Wishing I was kissing his chubby cheeks? Wishing with all of my being that I was the one who left this place rather than him.

So now I know, though. I know holidays are going to be happy on the outside, miserable on the inside. A sad undercurrent accompanying an otherwise joyful occasion.

Author: unaffected

Infertile mother to a 4-year-old and a 1-year-old twinless twin. Surviving motherhood after infant loss.

2 thoughts on “the first holiday without him”

  1. I am so sorry. The holidays and celebrations are always hard when you’re “supposed” to be happy but just aren’t. Faking it sucks the energy out I’m sure. I was concerned about the sentence you wrote about wanting to trade places with your sweet little one. I can only imagine it feels so painful but your family needs you here and you have much love to give to Oliver’s siblings and daddy.


    1. I’m sorry if it was an alarming sentence. I am definitely not contemplating harming myself. Just, if I could trade places with him, I would. Thankfully Avery and Henry give me reason to want to wake up each morning, as painful as it sometimes is. ❤ Thank you for support ❤


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