Be still my heart.
He is gone.
All week, I knew this day was coming and the lingering dread was ever present; my body felt weighted with shackles that got heavier each day. My heart was dense with a combination of grief and sadness. I was near tears every few hours and I cried at least once a day. One day, I cried an entire morning. I felt stuck and unable to process and take actions in ways I would normally not find difficult. The emotions lingered that my Dominic would leave for a week trip with his dad and we wouldn’t be together for Christmas. It was all I could do to even think about it without bursting into tears. It was simply crushing.
I numbed a bit with busy as I was also scrambling a bit to pull off an early Christmas at our house that was special and filled with surprises and excitement. Don’t forget Santa, we had to request a special early appearance from him on Friday. Amazon was a whole different challenge to add to the juggle this year. And then there was our elf, Anakin, who was up to all kinds of debauchery all week. One day we found him skate boarding off the bar with candy everywhere and another we found him having a nerf gun war with the resident stuffed Sloth.
Dominic leaving happens every other year and it never gets easier for a moment. Not one. Well, I guess if you count the fact that it’s not the first time, we have a better rhythm and he’s older and doesn’t have to be peeled off of my chest while he’s screaming, then that is indeed a little easier than it once was. The pain of him leaving is a crushing pain - especially at Christmas. Leading up to his departure I feel as though someone has fractured my heart into a million tiny pieces and I cannot breathe. The love I have for my little man is both profound and at times completely paralyzing. He is like a little heart beating outside of my body every much the same as they were when he was a newborn. Add all of that to the sentiment of Christmas and family and COVID, and well, you have one emotional momma over here. I am also ridiculously angry and sad that we don’t all get to have a Christmas together as a family of four now. I finally have my dream and well, it’s not like the storybooks promised.
At the same time, I am intensely grateful he will get to be with his aging grandparents and that he has a relationship with his father. I am grateful his dad and I have a copasetic relationship. I am also so grateful to not be in a marriage that I felt empty and alone in for far too long. I am grateful to have a life that lights me up, a man who adores me and my son, and to live where we do and to have a life of adventure.
Does time heal all? No. This will be the 3rd Christmas I haven’t spent with Dominic by my side because of my choice to make a different life for us nearly 7 years ago. Each Christmas without him is hard and it takes me back to the time I knew this would be in our future if I chose the fork in the road. I remember rocking him and thinking I could never sacrifice a moment with him. This year the cards fall hard with the dates and I don’t even get him on Christmas Eve. Atlas, the fork I chose led us to a truly magical life that I am profoundly grateful.
But the fork also means that he is gone. For Christmas. This time, this year, it is different though. The pain doesn’t define me. It doesn’t control me and I don’t numb it, but I feel it. I honor it. I journal more and step into the gratitude of what I do have, which is so so much. I tell people I am hurting. I share my story. I wear it and I ask for support. Those are all quite profound steps of growth for me because I have always distracted myself instead of sitting with this. I have always filled the time. Adding ten extra doses of busy to the normal me is my go to pain avoidance strategy. But this year, I am letting myself soak in some rest. Today right after he left I went to the gym for a freezing WOD outside and then came home to rest. I journaled. Meditated. Read. Snuggled my dog. Napped. Read more. Napped again. Even my Fitbit seems to be confused about this low level of activity today. But this is self-care. This is oxygen first. Sometimes it really does help to just slow down and soak it all in, even if it’s not happy emotions. Today, when Dominic left, I felt relief, sadness, fear and hope. Relief because I get a break. Sadness because he’s gone. Fear that he may never return. Hope that he will be snuggled in my arms again before too long.
I am filling the space with love, rest, self care and intentional action. I also get to spend special time with my bonus boy who will be with us all week starting tomorrow and I am really excited for us to have time together during the holiday. I am really delighted to be with him and his dad and to just soak in Christmas together. My heart goes out to parents who have to share their children during the holidays, including to his mom. You see, he is also not with his real mom and my heart breaks for her while it leaps for us since we have him. I can almost cry all of my tears all over again for her because I know distinctly what she’s likely experiencing. It’s a lot of emotions and I am realizing more and more how human it is to feel so many things at once.
My heart goes out to all of the parents who are without their little ones this year, for all of the parents who will never hold theirs again, and to everyone who is without family. I am sending each of you love and hugs and hoping you still have a magical holiday season. I would love to hear from you about your coping strategies and how you will commit to putting on your oxygen mask first this year! Comment below or DM me on Instagram or Facebook.
Sending you all love and magic.
BIG LOVE,
