Hard to Say Goodbye to 2020...

It has been a long while since I have posted. Time has passed and I actually don't really know where I am in the grieving process. I am grateful for all that I have, but I know a part of me still misses what could be. 

To rewind a bit, I will discuss my New Year celebration this year. Usually my family and I bring in the New Year at church. This is something I have always looked forward to. We get together sing songs, hear testimonies and a last reflection of the year from our pastor. Due to COVID, much like many other events, this has changed. This year I stood home with my small family. I remember venturing out in the evening because I just had to get something New Years related. Traditionally my mother would always get a hat, noise maker, or anything fun and quirky to ring in the New Year. I always loved that she tried to make it festive and fun. So as I walked outside in search for New Years gear, I was saddened by the fact that all the outdoor vendors were non-existent. I finally found a discount store that had cool Michael Jackson-esque hats that lit up and fun glasses with colorful lights. It made me joyful to walk back home to bring my children something fun to bring in the New Year. I walked happily home with my Chestnut Praline latte in hand ready to enter a New Year in a slightly different way.

Fast forward to a few minutes before midnight. I decided to bring in the New Year with my parents' church via Zoom. It was nice to be able to bring in the New Year somewhat like I was used to doing, but it still felt a lot different. It was nice seeing familiar faces of people I have known and loved since childhood. Finally midnight approaches as we finish a congregational prayer. Everyone shouts, "Happy New Year!" It is a festive environment and people are hugging and greeting one another lovingly. Something is missing. I am happy, but different today. It takes a few minutes and my mind isn't even racing with any thoughts in particular, but I think about how I just said "Goodbye" to one of the toughest year's of my life. I should be happy, right? In a sense, it's nice starting a New Year, but this year it was different. I was pregnant with Ethan and Nathan throughout 2020, at the beginning of the Pandemic. I gave birth to them at 32 weeks also during 2020, and their due date was December 28, 2020. How could I say "Goodbye" just like that. My mother calls me and my thoughts are slightly interrupted. I pick up the video call and I can hardly manage to say, "Happy New Year!" Tears are streaming down my face and I could barley utter out words. All I know is that, this is it. Ethan and Nathan were mine for a time, but the time is gone. It's a New Year and while others are making up a list of resolutions, others welcoming their own babies, others engaged, and all of these other exciting and new opportunities--I only have pictures of what could have been that now wasn't.

2021--This is a New Year and chapter, but I have had to accept that it is one in which Ethan and Nathan will no longer play a part. They will remain in my heart, and I will always be incredibly grateful to have held them in and outside of my body, but I now realize that I must continue moving forward knowing that they will not physically be doing the same. Grief is such a complex part of life. In the hospital I could pretend they were alive. I could pretend all was well. I could pretend they could hear my voice and be comforted by it. In reality this wasn't the case. Yet, it gave me comfort during such a shaky and fragile time in my life. Grief is something where you feel fine one minute, and another moment you cry at the drop of a hat. Sometimes you do not even recognize what causes the stir of emotions, but your mind brings you back to the moment where the loss began, and you are reminded that it DOES hurt but you will survive. That New Years Eve into New Years Day the comfort came in the circle forming around me, Juan Carlos (my husband), Elyana (my first born, my rainbow baby), and my son Ezra (my only living son, and my sweet affectionate boy). It was as if the hand of God stopped time for just a moment as I cried, and they waited as if Zack Morris from SBTB called, "Time Out!" Everything was blurred in the background as I was one with saying a final "Goodbye" to the boys I had come to love and hope for all throughout 2020. Then cue in Zack Morris once more, "Time in!" Elyana's bright and compassionate eyes look at me, and I hug her, my husband and my Ezra. I am truly blessed. As much as I have lost, I have gained so much from the family that I still have around me.

Wherever you are in 2021, be gentle on yourself. 2020 was hard, and parts of 2021 are proving to be just as difficult. Stop, allow Zack Morris' "Time Out!" to take center stage every once in a while, and feel all the feelings. Release what needs to be released. Breathe again and know the blessings that are all around you in whatever way that appears: your health, your family, your life, your home, your pets, your church, your relationships. Acknowledge difficult times but also embrace the smallest moments of blessings when and where you find them. 

xoxo

DC