Thanksgiving After a Miscarriage: Being Grateful For What I Have, When I Don't Have the One Thing I Most WantAela Mass
I reflect on previous Thanksgivings and who I celebrated with and where I was. And while those times are over, they’re still very dear to my heart.
Last Thanksgiving, especially.
I was pregnant. Just about 13 weeks along. I had started showing. We spent the holiday at my brother- and sister-in-law’s home in Alexandria, Virginia, with their two elementary-age daughters. It was a spectacular time. I have such wonderful memories — mostly because they host one heck of a Thanksgiving — but also because I was pregnant, and I loved being pregnant.
I remember explaining to our nieces that the twins were about the size of peaches, and that Aunt Sara couldn’t wait for them to become the size of avocados, because those are her favorite. Our youngest niece cuddled with me on the couch, never taking her hands off my belly, trying to picture avocado babies.
This year, I have so much to be thankful for that it is seriously amazing. My wife opened up her own CrossFit, an actual dream come true. We moved to the one place I’ve always wanted to live, Martha’s Vineyard. I landed a great new job that I absolutely love. Our dog happily wags her tail each and every day. A once-terribly-strained relationship with some of my wife’s family members has finally turned a corner, and there’s only goodness going forward there. We are healthy. Our families are healthy. Our fridge and cupboards are full with food. We have money in the bank (not as much as we’d like, but…). Our friends are the biggest loves on the planet.
There is so much to be thankful for. And I am.
Loss teaches you not to take a moment of it for granted. Your blessings become more obvious after the darkness left by loss.
I look back at my 17 weeks with my twins growing in my belly, and I’m grateful for that time — even though it ended too soon and tragically.
So much has changed in one year, as it always seems to do. We talked last Thanksgiving about making the trip down to Virginia this year with 6-month-old twins. That was the plan. Or, at least, that was our plan. I’m not totally clear just yet what exactly “the plan” is for us, though I’ve gotten to the point where I have to just trust it.
And for that, I’m grateful.
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