Sometimes I look at these things I share and I feel as if I’m reading someone else’s story. Surely this isn’t my journey. Surely that person is not me. This person doesn’t look or speak like me, because I couldn’t possibly be going through something like this. And I’m perplexed. Because how could this happen?

I read all the books, took all the vitamins, ate organic, switched my beauty products to natural or organic products. I did it all right. I followed the rules. I prayed over Brielle’s future before she was even conceived. We planned Brielle’s timing three years in advance. I played the game everyone wants me to play, so who is that person saying she is me?

I’ve waited for Brielle my whole life. My whole life I’ve waited for this time of my life. I’ve always known that my purpose and path in life was not to begin until now. And I’ve waited. I’ve endured and I’ve suffered. When things in my teenage years broke me, I pushed through and survived so that I could be a mom. When gastroparesis took away everything I had and nearly took me with it, I pushed through so that I could be a mom. I have spent my whole life fighting for the right to be Brielle’s mother, to be a mom. Every decision and step I’ve taken in my life has been for this child. Some people search their whole lives for who they are, but I always knew. I always felt as if I was in someone else’s skin, biding my time until I could be myself, until I could be free to begin.

When I read these stories, see these pictures, I wonder who that person is. I have been through enough, so who is this person saying she is me? From the outside my life may have looked happy, but for the past fifteen years I have suffered, struggled, and fought for every bit of happiness I’ve had. I have not had reprieve in so long, this was to be my reprieve. My light in all of my darkness. So who is this woman who says this is my path? This was not to be. I was going to be happy. I was going to see my beautiful little girl, this was not to be my path. I don’t need an answer to why bad things happen to good people. I already know the answer. What I want to know, is will I only know the bad? Will everything that could go wrong in a life find me?

All I want is to see my little girl grow up, I want to see her smile, and live a long, healthy, happy life. She’s not supposed to know this sadness, she deserves a life of sunshine and laughter. If I had the power, I’d move heaven and earth and give it to her. I’d be whatever I needed to be to give her a beautiful and perfect future. I’d bend the will of man to ensure her happiness, all for her smile, all I want is a lifetime with her smile. I want to see wrinkles and smile lines. And I want to hear the laughter of her children. I want to live a lifetime with that future, a future with her.

This Christmas was hard in so many ways. It seemed that my grief period occurred during the first few weeks after Brielle was born. Then I was doing pretty good and it was David who was struggling. Then a few days before Christmas, it suddenly became my turn to grieve and David was doing better. I wish grief would have given me some warning. Really, it just came out of no where. Thanks a lot grief, great timing.

I managed to make it through the second half of Christmas day with a smile on my face. But I spent the morning hiding in my bedroom crying because Christmas music was playing through the house. I don’t think people realize how difficult music is for me. Brielle loved music and I never played her anything Christmas related. I will never know what she would have liked. Then you add the newborn babe stuff on top and it’s like pouring acid on an open wound.

I had envisioned that we’d start a new tradition with Brielle. I wasn’t sure what, but I wanted to talk about it. I wanted ideas. Most days I’m mentally foggy. Grief seems to make me move and think slower than I used to. But whenever David and I would bring up Brielle, the room would get silent and the subject would change. So David and I just kept quiet. I felt like the room was closing in on me and I was carrying the whole world on my shoulders.

After my family left, I felt as if I had been emotionally battered and bruised. David and I spent the following days bingeing out on Psych (the comedic tv show) and eating obscene amounts of popcorn and Christmas desserts. Don’t judge us. And we decided that perhaps Christmas really isn’t for us anymore. So next year we plan on escaping some place else and just not celebrating. I’ll put up a small tree just for Brielle. And we’ll probably do something small for his family. David’s mom has Alzheimer’s (although she doesn’t realize it) and next year may be the last year she remembers us. To be fair, this may have been the last year. But all that is left of David’s family is his nephew and his mom, (his only living brother lives in Germany). So we don’t generally have a large Gentry Christmas. We’ll just have to make our own Wolford-Gentry family Christmas.

For those that don’t know I kept my last name, David kept his, and we are giving our children the last name Wolford-Gentry. Funny thing about David, he respects me more for keeping my name. He likes that I’m independent and didn’t want to follow tradition. I kept my name for quite a few reasons, but one of them being I’m the eldest grandchild and the Wolford name dies out with my generation. Also I’m ornery and didn’t want to change my name. And do you know how annoying it is to redo all of that paperwork? Ain’t nobody got time for that.

So after a really horrible week David and I think we’ll just go someplace tropical or really snowy next year. We’ll hole up on the beach or in a cabin and just forget Christmas. Maybe next year I’ll be pregnant and we can do something special for that baby and in honor of Brielle. But the way Christmas was, will never be what David and I can continue. Maybe we’ll take an annual cruise! Or a trip back to Paris or Dover! Who knows? We’re also thinking no presents. I don’t know. Taking a trip and disappearing from the world sounds a lot more fun. But assimilating back into a family Christmas will take time for us. I’m not sure if we’ll ever be okay with a family Christmas again. We may endure another, but I don’t know if we’ll ever be okay with it again.