Before we say goodbye to 2021…
This week between Christmas and New Years is what I would imagine purgatory to be like. Waiting in limbo, not sure what day it is or what to do next. For some, this week is spent cleaning and purging so you don’t bring in the new year with clutter and chaos. For others, it’s a week of complete rest. And some people spend this week reflecting and gearing up for what’s to come by making vision boards, setting up their new planner, meditating etc. Personally, I am a mixture of all of the above. Grief has put a huge damper on the things I’ve done this week. There’s so many things I wanted to accomplish and it all seems extremely heavy and overwhelming at the moment. But before we get all glitzed and glammed (read sweats and socks) and say goodbye to 2021, I wanted to leave you with a few things.
Allow yourself space to grieve.
There was a lot of loss in 2021. We started the year anxious to get rid of 2020 and we hoped that we could go back to our normal lives. Quickly we realized that would not be the case. So many of our loved ones that started this year out with us aren’t finishing it and that sucks. I can think of more than one handful right off the top of my mind of people in my circle who lost someone this year. Mothers, fathers, sisters, friends. Aunts and uncles. Daughters and sons. My Grayson, who was only earth side for 16 days. This year I experienced incredible loss. Losing a child is a pain that has no words to describe it. There’s nothing to compare it to. I’m so angry at God. There I said it. I’ve been wanting to say it for eleven and a half months now. I’m so freaking angry. Hadn’t I suffered enough? Five years of fertility treatments, countless shots and procedures, dozens of failed transfers, a difficult pregnancy and then to have my son pass away in my arms while trying to recover from a complicated delivery and care for my other infant son. How much is too much for one person to carry? I understand why people choose not to believe in God. Especially having suffered such incredible loss. Sometimes I think it would be easier if I didn’t believe. I could just chalk it up to having bad luck or something. But as angry and as shattered as I am, I still believe. Maybe you’re like me and you have found yourself grieving the loss of a loved one this year. Maybe you’re grieving the loss of a friendship or a relationship, a job or a home. Whatever loss you’ve experienced this year, give yourself the space to grieve and to mourn. Our beliefs may be different. Our circumstances might not look the same. The way we process our grief will definitely be different. Grieving doesn’t mean you’re weak, it means you’re human. Here’s your permission slip to take the time and space needed to process your loss.
Take the damn picture.
I used to get so annoyed with my friends would constantly snap photos. Whenever we are together, I can always count on them to evolve into the paparazzi (yes, I’m definitely talking about you Brooke 😂). I’m also that friend that is easily annoyed in group photos and my face will usually tell it all. I like to live in the moment. For the better part of 2021, I was not on my A-game. I hardly ever wore makeup, my hair was always in some sort of messy (and not the cute Pinterest messy) bun and the bags under my eyes were far from designer. Not the ideal circumstances to be photographed. This year has taught me to just take the photo. I think we’ve al heard that quote about how important photos become when the people in them are no longer here with us. I get it now. A photograph can take you right back to that moment in time. You remember exactly where you were, the conversation that you were having, the smell of the place you were. You can feel the clothing on your skin as if you were wearing that same outfit right now. Photographs are a way capturing our history. So take the photo. Don’t worry about whether or not you’re on your good side, if your belly is sucked in, if your hair and makeup are done. Take the photo. Make a piece of history. And if you’re like me and easily annoyed at all of the photos, remember that when you’re gone, those photos are what those who love you will have to remember you with.
There’s always something to be grateful for.
Y’all know I’m the queen of gratitude right? If you’ve been around me for any length of time in the past 5 years, you’ve heard me talk about gratitude on more than one occasion. I mean, I even wrote a book about it (you can find it on Amazon here). Gratitude has changed my life. Actively practicing gratitude has changed my life. Even in the midst of loss and grief, I can’t help but to be reminded of the good that came from this year.
I became a mother. Like carried my own children and birthed them. Listen, I was basically told my entire life that I would never conceive and even if there was some miracle that allowed conception, the likelihood of carrying to term was next to zero. But on January 8, 2021 at 6:04 am I became a mother. And at 6:05 am I became a mother again. It was the greatest day of my life and nothing else will ever compare to the moment I saw both of my boys for the first time.
I celebrated 8 years of marriage with my husband this year. To say that this year has been challenging would be an understatement. And while marriage can be so rewarding, it requires work. Daily work. It’s incredibly difficult to work on your marriage when you’re grieving the loss of your child. A child that you spent half a decade trying to conceive and only held for 16 days. Marriage is extremely difficult when you’re grieving the loss of your child, while carrying for your other child and being sleep deprived, working and trying to keep life afloat. I understand how so many marriages end after tragedy because everything is overwhelming. But I’m incredibly grateful that Trevor and I have been intentional on caring for one another and taking the necessary steps to heal ourselves.
I’m grateful for the impact that my Grayson has made on the world I live in. Countless messages have been sent to us about how sharing our story has inspired and encouraged so many others to live their lives to the fullest extent. So many people doing brave things because they’ve seen the things I’ve been doing. So many hardened hearts softened because the realization of how fragile life is and how precious our time is here. Grayson’s life was short. But it was not without impact. And I’m grateful that his legacy will live on through all who will hear his story.
I’m grateful for you. If you’re reading this you’ve been instrumental in my healing process. If you’ve sent messages, texts, emails, phone calls, well wishes or prayers, you’ve kept me alive and given me strength to keep moving. This year was filled with darkness but you have been a glimmer of light and hope and love. I wouldn’t be here writing this if it weren’t for you. I don’t take your presence in my life lightly. Thank you for showing up for me when I couldn’t show up for myself. Thank you for holding me up when I couldn’t feel the ground beneath me. Thank you for being here.
I know that today is the day that we say goodbye to this dumpster fire of a year and we sing the praise and excitement of the year that is to come, but before we do that, can we hang onto this year for just a moment longer. Hang on to remember our loved ones who we will leave behind in this year. Hang on to remember the joy that we had this year. Hang on to remember the strength and resilience we had this year. Hang on to remember how far we’ve come. Please don’t write 2021 off. Instead remember how you left this year as a warrior. You didn’t just survive 2021. You conquered it. And that is reason to celebrate.
Sending healing love and light to all who read this.
With Gratitude,
Jer