I didn’t like November very much. The first weekend was amazing – my husband turned 30 and Clara was christened, but after that it was pretty much downhill from there.
I think I was fearing the winter. How would I feel as the nights got darker? As anniversaries of last years events crept closer? As the return to work leapt nearer?
I couldn’t determine what bothered me more. Both were fear of the unknown. November just felt grey.
The return to work journey hasn’t been the smooth sailing I had imagined, or hoped for. And I’m not even back in the office yet! I know I’ll make it work in the end. There was no flexibility in my old role so I’m having to take on a new challenge.
Perhaps it didn’t make sense to go back to the role I was in before anyway. I’m definitely an amended version of the person I was before. I’ve grown and my brain has adapted – it might have been strange to settle back into an old environment with the new me.
But having major decisions made for you, when you’re a control freak like me, is pretty hard to adapt to overnight. My job was who I was, I’d massively emotionally overcommitted.
Cue – identity crises.
Throw into the mix the darker nights, and looming days of “wow it’s already a year on from….” last year.
I was afraid of December. So I spent the whole of November worrying, unnecessarily.
Every year our Christmas tree goes up the first weekend of December. We’d spend the evening watching Christmas films, decorating the house and the tree, and eating delicious food as we go.
Last year, our tree went up the second weekend in December. And on the same day I packed my hospital bag and washed all the pure white newborn sleep suits and vests. I had a feeling baby would be coming early, but I certainly had no idea baby would be pre-Christmas!
I certainly had no idea a pre-Christmas baby would result in our baby not coming home until the summer.
I’ll save our Christmas story for another day, but it’s safe to say our Christmas tree was taken down in haste when we realised that we really were in a bleak midwinter. I’m not sure I’m ready to put it up this year yet either.
But December I’m ready for you. You’re going to be gold.
Here’s to the many many magical Christmases to come, as seen through the eyes of our beautiful little Christmas miracle.