Coping with Christmas

By Robyna

The first Christmas without them

I remember our first Christmas without Xavier. It fell around four months after he died. It seemed impossible.

How could I get through a season of joy when my heart was completely broken? Everything around me seemed at odds with how I was feeling.

“My First Christmas” ornaments mocked me. I couldn’t face the shops, and their festive cheer — full of people seemingly unaware of pain. Yet I had a nearly-four year old expecting magic.

In some ways, Christmas can feel harder than other significant dates. On your child’s birthday, their anniversary, your focus is on them. Sadness is to be expected. But during Christmas, it can feel like your heart is torn in two. The yearning for your child, the sharp pain of loss, contrasts starkly against Christmas’ joy and bustle.

That first year, I just wanted to pretend Christmas didn’t exist. For some that I have met on this terrible road, they did just that. They went on a break, away from family, friends and Christmas traditions. That might be a path for you. I spent a great deal of time in the lead up to Christmas doing things for Xavier. Making things for him and trying to involve his spirit in Christmas.

On Christmas day itself, I slept and kept to myself. Alone on the couch, silent but comforted by the sound and busyness around me. Distant but cared for. It was what I needed in that moment and I’m so glad my family respected it.

If this is your first Christmas after saying good-bye, please be gentle with yourself and your expectations. If you want to do things for your child, do them. But don’t feel pressured to do them. You can start (and end) traditions any given year. Make plans, but don’t be angry at yourself if you cannot keep them. Put yourself and your immediate family first. So often we are asked to make Christmas about other people. This year, it’s okay to say no. Be exactly where you need to be.

Ways to show your love over Christmas

Leave a Christmas ornament or memento at your child’s grave/memorial/special place.

Write a letter to your child.

Write a long Christmas card to someone who has helped in your grief.

Make Christmas cookies and decorate with the first letter of your child’s name.

Take a long walk, dedicate the time to your child.

An adult letter to Santa - write the things you wish for your family, write them on cut-out paper stars. Sew the stars together to hang.

Write your child’s name with a sparkler.

Make a list of love and appreciation. Sit down with family or friends tonight and spend some time talking about what you love and appreciate about every person. Write it down.

Look at a Christmas lights display - or make one of your own (it can be small).

Create a Christmas candle for your child - decorate a pillar candle or decorate a jar to hold a tea light candle.

Make/buy a Christmas keepsake and give to another bereaved parent. Ensure that you somehow incorporate something that relates to their child.

Find a way to take a Christmas photo of your child.

Make/Buy a Christmas decoration for your child.

Make a Christmas stocking for your child. Encourage family and friends to make Christmas cards, drawings etc., to place into the stocking on Christmas Day.

Buy a gift for a charity, for a child the same age as your child would be.

Make a Christmas wreath for your child (it needn’t be large).

Make a Christmas scrap-booking page for your child.

Write a poem /Finding a Christmas poem or song that speaks to your heart.

Make an “in memory” Christmas Card, either to keep or to send to someone special.

How to support a bereaved family at Christmas

Both sides of our family remember Xavier at Christmas time. There are baubles for him on my parent’s tree and my sister in law’s tree. It means so much to see him remembered and treasured.

If you want to, buy a little present for or in the name of the child no longer here. A donation to their favourite charity would be a lovely gesture.

Be sensitive and be forgiving – it is a really hard time of year.

Particularly if it’s their first Christmas, give them space. It may feel like they aren’t really engaging in Christmas. They may not want to participate in family traditions. They may not want to celebrate Christmas at all. Allow them the time and space they need and try not feel hurt.

Attend a service with them.

Visit their child’s grave or special place and leave something – not out of obligation to your family member or friend but because you miss their baby too.

Address Christmas cards to the whole family, including the ones gone too soon.

A note about New Years

The first New Year took me by surprise. There were many that assumed I would feel a sense of relief. That I would be glad to turn my back on a horrific year and say good riddance to it. Like so many things in grief, it wasn’t that simple.

The turning of the year felt like leaving my son behind. As the only year he ever knew faded into history I felt another pang of loss. 2012 would forever be his. It would hold the two weeks of his life. It would hold the joy of his birth. It would hold the lovely, easy days of his pregnancy. It would hold the devastation of his death. It would hold the day we said good-bye. It would hold my last days of naivety and innocence.

People will tell you that time will heal – and it will. But it also adds distance from your loved one.

If you are moving into a new year without your darling baby in your arms, be gentle with yourself. It is yet another milestone on a long list of milestones. I was surprised that my first New Year without Xavier brought with it the same depth of emotion and confusion as Christmas. I had not expected it to affect me so deeply. That first Christmas felt empty without him. The first New Year felt like moving on without him.

When you have lost someone dear, you hold to all that reminds you of them. You hold to things that surprise you.

And no matter how devastating the events of the year, it also holds precious, precious memories that will be desperately clung to forever.

Time is a great healer, but it is also a thief — it dulls the pains and the memories in equal measure. There is grief in that too.

Last reviewed: 9/4/24