Ornamental Reflection
Posted: December 22, 2009 at 5:32 pmIt’s hanging again. Her ornament. It faces my spot on the couch where I do most of my work day in and day out. It hangs at just about eye view. The silver shininess of the ornament catches my eye when I glance out the window to look at the snow that continues to layer itself on our apple tree outside.
I can’t imagine not having her ornament on our tree.
It’s something little. To most people it might even register as insignificant. It isn’t Earth-shattering or all that big and bold. It’s just an ornament on a Christmas tree. Right?
It still means so much more to me.
I bought it on clearance in late Spring after her first Christmas. I was meandering around Hallmark, looking for things which have long since been forgotten. I noticed that the ornaments were 75% off the lowest marked price so I took a look. One “Baby’s First Christmas” ornament from 2003 was sitting in the pile. Just one. I bought it without thinking.
I didn’t hang it in 2004.
I was just coming out from under the dark veil of denial of the first year of adoption. While our relationship was fine, I was beginning to feel things that I didn’t quite understand. In fact, some of the things I was feeling felt wrong. Was I allowed to regret things? Was I allowed to miss her so deeply, so viscerally? Was I allowed to think of “what if” and ask why? I didn’t know. The thoughts scared me. They overwhelmed me. And so acting like any other reasonable adult, I ignored them just as I ignored the ornament when I pulled the decorations out to deck the halls that year. I ignored what that meant.
I don’t think I hung it up in 2005 either. In fact, I know I didn’t. My heart was heavy with the realization of all I had lost as I cradled my newborn oldest son in my arms. I couldn’t begin to comprehend what hanging her ornament or lacking to do so meant for me. I couldn’t even comprehend at that time how the relinquishment of my firstborn was going to forever affect how I parented the children under my roof. I wasn’t in denial that year. I was clueless as to everything that placing a child had done to my soul.
Come 2006, after completing almost a full year of therapy, I pulled out the box and opened it for the first time. Turns out that the little star that said “Baby’s First” wasn’t properly attached to the ornament and fell off. I hung it that year, the first in our new home, without the star. It was a step. A baby step. But a step.
In 2007, I fastened the star to the ornament with some fishing line, courtesy of my nature loving husband. And every year since, it has been proudly displayed on our tree.
Maybe the story of how an ornament hangs on our tree means nothing to you. It says volumes about my healing. I was once unable to even consider hanging up something that put my heart on the line, my story on a tree, visible to all who entered our home. It has taken me years to get to a point where I not only need to hang it up like the rest of our ornaments but I am proud to do so. That ornament? Is a silver, shiny, dangling representation of my daughter, what she means in my life and what I have been through to keep her in my life. It’s not just an ornamental decoration to me.
This ornament and its reflection, both visual on the ornament and here in words, represent this journey I have endured and will continue to endure for years to come.
The Discussion
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This is so beautiful, and it makes me sad and happy at the same time. Thank you.
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this is so very lovely — the ornament as well as your reflections of it’s significance in your life.
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Wow. So. Ariana was standing over my shoulder when I was reading this. She saw the picture and gasped. And said, “Mommy! That’s mine!” Sure enough, she has the same ornament hanging on our tree. Now she knows she has it hanging on yours, too.
Love you.
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Jenna Reply:
December 22nd, 2009 at 8:51 pm
Denise; I love you. How perfect is that?
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Agreed with Thorn. Touching. Gave me both happy and sad feelings and made me reflect how this is one thing I actually never did. (I blogged about that and linked. Hope it is okay with you).
Happy Holidays to you and all your children.
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Jenna Reply:
December 22nd, 2009 at 9:29 pm
Of course it’s okay. Heading over.
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Thanks so much for this beautiful post. I didn’t buy an ornament for my son–it never occurred to me–and sometimes I see how many things don’t occur to me in time, and it’s heartbreaking.
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Jenna Reply:
December 22nd, 2009 at 9:56 pm
Some things don’t occur to us for various reasons: not ready, not in our realm of thought/experience, not important. Ornaments are big in our family. It felt unnatural the first Christmas when we didn’t have one for her.
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What a wonderful post and a great tribute to how far you have come!
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Just echoing the others. A lovely, thoughtful post. Thank you.
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That was simply beautiful! I hope you don’t mind if I post the link to this on our FB group? Thank you for writing this.
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