No, I’m not referring to a particular person.
The Grinch is a state of mind.
The Grinch is when you’re standing with your feet wet in the snow, looking at the other people having fun and enjoying Christmas, and wonder why you’re all by yourself in a cave.
I am a Chrismassy person.
Every year since I was a teenager I have adorned my room with Christmas lights, re-read A Christmas Carol, played Christmas songs in the evenings, and generally revelled in the season.
But the last couple of years, I’ve had trouble getting into the act.
But if I thought that the Christmas Spirit was a little lacking last year, it was a Christmas WONDERLAND compared to this year.
I haven’t send any Christmas Cards.
I haven’t BOUGHT any Christmas Cards.
There are lights up in the kitchen, but not in the living room.
We don’t have a tree.
The sad thing is, we’re trying.
We got Owl to write a letter to Santa, but we haven’t talked about taking him to sit on Santa’s lap.
I went out and bought new ornaments for the tree, but we haven’t actually made any plans to actually GET a tree.
PH put Christmas music on for me one night.
And I nearly cried.
We just aren’t feeling it, this year.
Not only was I expecting to be holding a tiny baby by now, but Christmas has always been deeply associated with babies and motherhood for me.
So while I love Christmas, whenever I start to feel too Christmassy, I also start to feel more deprived, more aware of my loss.
PH, on the other hand, is beginning to panic because he’s watching his wife crack up and he’s too depressed to handle it. He insisted that I go back on my Welbutrin (even though I think my depression is far more situational than seasonal) and then recklessly went OFF of his, thinking that maybe his meds were to blame for the fact that I have not yet conceived.
I thought that was a bad idea, and I’m convinced the problem is with me – I’m getting older, I had that D&C…
But PH wanted to try, so he went off his meds, and it is not going well.
It’s hard to feel Christmassy when you’re feeling stressed, and grieving, and your husband is in such deep pain that he radiates anguish, for all he tries so hard to hide it.
At least Owl is too young to know what he’s missing. But he’s had trouble getting into the spirit too.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m decorating for Christmas, honey.”
“It’s not Christmas.”
“It’s Christmastime, honey.”
“No. Dere’s no SNOW out!”
I thought snow would help the Christmas Spirit a lot for all of us. But when it came this week, I enjoyed the prettiness, but Christmas still didn’t touch my heart.
My hope is that when I’m sitting on my parents’ couch, looking at the tree and listening to Karen Carpenter, that the Spirit will find me, and that Christmas will come to me like it did to the Whos down in Whoville.
And I won’t cry “booo hoooo.”