Gifts and gifts and gifts, Oh My!

My son, who’s four, came home from Junior Kindergarten last Thursday afternoon with a backpack full of loot bags.  Halloween loot bags.  Halloween loot bags from friends that he has known for eight weeks that were passed out to the entire 18-kid class, labelled ‘To My Friend’, and stuffed with Halloween pencils and erasers, balloons, glow-in-the-dark sticks, and spider rings.  I received a note from his teacher the week prior, reminding parents that if they wanted to “send something in for Halloween” it had to be non-food-related due to allergy concerns.  I chose not to send anything in, and here’s why:

When did this never-ending cycle of gift-giving start?  There’s the obvious biggies- Christmas and birthdays.  But when did it become commonplace to shower our children with ‘stuff’ every month of the year?  There’s back-to-school gifts in September, Halloween gifts in October, and New Year’s gifts in January.  Don’t forget the Valentine’s hoop-la in February, Dr. Seuss Day in March, and Easter baskets in April.  Oh, and Thanksgiving and Canada Day and the first day of Spring. What about June?  Ah yes, the “passing present” when they finish school.  Yes, you read that right: a passing present- that is, buying them a present for “passing” to the next grade level.

Please don’t get me wrong.  I am all about celebrations.  I am the first one to give a hug, a congratulatory phone call, or mail a card when a big event happens.  I put out lit-up pumpkin lights for Halloween, I hang Christmas lights in November, and I serve my kids red and pink food all day on Valentine’s Day.  But I’m not about stuff.  Gifts, gifts, and more gifts are not my style.

So, back to the note from my son’s teacher.  Halloween is already a big event at school when you’re in Junior Kindergarten, and my son was beyond excited that he got to wear his costume to school.  They also had a dance-a-thon in the gym, a movie in the classroom, and a costume parade through the halls.  It was a big deal.  It IS a big deal.  But I didn’t buy him, or his classmates, a gift.  Because the joy we had leading up to Halloween, the laughs we had trick-or-treating, and the memories we made on our neighbourhood streets were worth far more than a $5 loot bag could hold.

Call me a killjoy, call me cheap, call me a poor sport.  I will call me low-key.  I’m for jeans and a ponytail over dress pants and up-dos.  I’m for experiences over things.  I’m for earning over deserving.  I’m for opportunities over entitlement.

Happy Halloween!

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Break the Silence….. Again…..

I’m re-posting my blog post from last year, from the week of October 15th.  I’m doing this because my online reach is far greater than it was a year ago, and because of that, there’s an opportunity for greater awareness and less taboo.  October 15th is ‘Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day’.  Here is my story:

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I struggled to write this post.  Really struggled.  Not just with the emotion of it all, but with the feelings of vulnerability and complete exposure that this topic brings out in me.  But that’s why it needs to be written…..to break the silence, prevent the stigma, and end the taboo surrounding miscarriage.

I had a miscarriage last year.  We lost our baby on April 6th, 2011, at 11 weeks and 6 days gestation.  One day shy of the magic ’12-weeks-pregnant’ mark where the stats on miscarriage decrease dramatically.  I was wrapped up with the excitement of another baby, and we were already envisioning life as a family-of-four.  In a cruel twist of irony, we had signed the papers for our bigger-with-an-extra-bedroom-house the weekend prior.  I had told friends and family of my pregnancy, even casually mentioned it to acquaintances, and sorted through bins of my maternity clothes.  And then it all ended.  My miscarriage was very sudden, very graphic, and very traumatic.  There was no doubt what was happening to our baby as we rushed to the ER, and as I laid on a triage bed next to my heartbroken husband, the loss overwhelmed me.

Those next few weeks are a haze of tears and despair.  My mom flew out to support us, and helped me get through the physical and emotional struggle of the first few days.  I ended up with a D&C surgery two weeks later, as I was deemed to have experienced an ‘incomplete miscarriage’.  The day following my surgery, I flew to New York City to spend the weekend with my two best friends.  And as I reflect on that difficult time in my life, I can see that’s where my heart began to heal.  Sister-like friends have that power.

That baby would’ve been due on October 27th, 2011.  I was dreading that day on the calendar, which had already been circled in a big red heart when we initially found out I was pregnant.  But as October 27th approached, I found myself blessed with another pregnancy; my beloved Casey was born on March 2nd, 2012, only 11 months after the miscarriage.  My gratitude for her is exponentially greater after feeling the hopelessness of loss.

There are three things that helped me get through this:

1. A memorial.  We carved a cross on a big tree in our favorite walking trails in remembrance of our lost baby.  That tree is a source of comfort for me, and a place we visit as a family several times a year.  My 3.5-year-old calls it our ‘special tree’.  I like to think of it as our ‘healing tree’.

2. Time.  While the grief and pain from this experience is not gone, it has lessened.  Time heals.  And my heart has healed a lot in 18 months.

3. Talking about it.  When this happened, I told the details to all of my family and friends.  I told my parents and my in-laws.  I told my sister-in-laws.  I told my girlfriends.  Talking about it helped me to process things, but it also helped to break down the stigma.  Miscarriage is still a taboo topic, and people don’t know what to say when it happens to someone they know.  It will happen to someone you know.  Up to 25% of known pregnancies result in miscarriage, 80% of those occurring in the first trimester.  Don’t say nothing.  Acknowledge the loss.  Because saying nothing only perpetuates the silence.

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Month.  On October 15th at 7pm, I will be joining many other people around the world in lighting a candle to remember the babies we’ve lost.  And I will be hugging the babies I have, thankful beyond measure.

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I am Thankful for the Start.

***This post was originally written as a Guest Blog post for Momstown.ca.***

“Would you be able to write a short and sweet story about being grateful, thankful, or what Thanksgiving means to your kids”?  This email popped into my Inbox from Momstown’s Director of Marketing and Media last week, and I’ve been thinking about it all weekend.

The part that’s been stumping me is where to start.  There is no doubt that I am over-the-top thankful for all of the things that I have in my life, and I do pause each day to consciously reflect on my gratitude and give thanks.  Believe me, I don’t take it for granted.  But, again, where do I start?  I guess I start at the start.

I am thankful that I finished my degree at the University of Calgary and still didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life.

I am thankful that I got a receptionist job at a sports-based chiropractic clinic and found the path to my future.

I am thankful that I applied to Chiropractic College in Toronto, and moved my life across the country the following year.

I am thankful that I said yes to a classmate’s offer to set me up on a blind date.

I am thankful that I knew from the very first night that I met him, that he was “the one”.

I am thankful for choices and coincidences, fate and luck, and right-time-right-place moments.

I am thankful for my husband, because he’s the start.  He’s where it all began.  He’s the one who gave me my incredible children and helped me build this wonderful life we are lucky enough to share today.

I am thankful for the start.

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