To Believe or Not to Believe

I wish I still believed...

When I was a child, I remember the days, even months leading up to Christmas were always filled with wonder and amazement. It wasn't just about the presents, but I'm sure that was part of it. I think partially it was due to school being let out for holiday and another part was a distinct change in seasons and the ensuing snow falling with reckless abandon. But I think a major part had to do with magic. Real magic. A magic I can't explain, but one I think has to do with 'believing '.

I try to reason it out, now as an adult, and I still can't seem to figure out or pinpoint what made it seem so magical for so many years? I try and pick out my lasting impressions from seasons gone by that have left their mark, such as, music, carols, spices, special decorations, twinkling lights, gingerbread houses, presents, Santa, trains, ballets, bells, stories, Christ, service, giving...but none, (at least by their onesies), seem to create the air of magic I crave. (I know because I've tried to recreate this feeling for 6 years, but to no avail.)

This feeling of magic, awe, and excitement lasted all the way up till the year I got married. Some years it wasn't as strong, and other times it was so invasive I thought I might, literally, burst with joy.

In college, I know that I no longer believed in Santa Claus, yet I did everything I could to make this time of year so special and magical. And it was. I always had a Christmas tree with decorations galore, and with the exception of my freshman year, it was always a real tree. Oh! the scent of a real Christmas tree carries such nostalgia.

We would have parties, we would sing carols, we would drink wassail, we would tell stories, we would go ice skating and have snowball fights, we would cook dinners, we would go to the Nutcracker, we would have church Christmas programs, and then I would go home for Christmas break and my Dad would say, there will be no Christmas this year! The running joke in the family, for Dad said this every year. Yet, he would still read the Story of Christ's birth from Luke on Christmas Eve and then we would wake up Christmas morning and somehow there would be a present or two...and sometimes more that just a few! And then there would be the stockings! Stocking were my favorite part, they still are. A lingering treat at the end of a beautiful morning.

I also tried to make the feeling of magic last longer, but it seemed that once the New Year rolled around, the magic vanished. Just like that. I still try every year to leave my tree up till after my birthday (20 Jan), but it never works; the magic is gone and I end up just prolonging the dreaded routine of putting the holiday decorations away and hauling away a dead tree.

This holiday, understandably, has proven to be more trying than most. The Christmas magic has been completely elusive. I tried, but I couldn't even pretend, like in years past when I had my children's memories to create. I had no reason to pretend. And I felt a distinct lack of magic. And absence that was sorely missed.

And so, I have found myself wishing that I still believed...

My birthday wish for Audrey

Audrey's birthday is the 18 Dec. Less than a week away. I am going to miss her birthday. I didn't think that I would have to go so long without seeing my children. The ache in my heart is so immense; it threatens destruction at every turn. I just want to snatch my little darlings up in my arms and sing them to sleep with this sweet lullaby.

I can't believe she is turning 3! I have missed 6 months of her short life--that's like a lifetime in Mommy years. I wonder if she remembers me. I pray every night for God to send angels to watch over my dear little ones and to whisper in their ears that "Mommy loves them!" And that I'll see them again, soon. And to fill their hearts with peace and comfort. I hope that He does.

I have presents to take to Audrey for her birthday. I made a dress. It's bright pink and sparkly; it matches the one I made Bethany in August, for her birthday. And I bought a Tangled coloring book because she loves Rapunzel. My parents, also, gave me some small gifts to give to her, too. But with how things are right now with the court case, (my in-laws have declined our settlement option, stating "A guardianship arrangement is not acceptable at this time" and we declined their settlement option which was to just let them go forth with the adoption proceeding and then they'd agree to let me at least see my kids...when they felt like it anyway), it seems they are so set against me having anything to do with my children, I don't think they will give my gifts to Audrey and tell her that they are from her Mommy.

What I wish I could do is get some carolers together (people that aren't me or my sibs, so they'll open the door!) to go sing to her The First Noel (her middle name is Noel, so that's 'her' Christmas carol) and give her the gifts with a bundle of balloons. And then have someone whisper in her ear that they are from Mommy and that Mommy loves her very much!

Oh, how I just need life to fast forward to the day when they are safely back in my care...and then I relax a little and just worry about providing for them as a single mom...(ironic laugh)!

Stranger at my door

I received an unexpected visitor last week. I'm assuming it was an early anniversary present, though an unwanted one.

Thursday, I was up in my room drowning out my negative thoughts about my current situation with a little hard rock (you know the kind, a lot of electric guitar and bass with words you can't understand). While I was thus occupied, my sister was downstairs with her children.

The doorbell rang and when she answered it, she was taken by surprise. My husband standing there, asking to see me. Her prompt reply was, "You are not welcome in my home, ever!" Then she slammed the door.

I'm sure that wasn't the response he wanted or was prepared for.

Nevertheless, she called her husband and had him talk to the man at the door. In more controlled and kinder words, he said the same thing and told him that I am not interested in talking with him until the issue of custody of our children is resolved.

I was, thankfully, oblivious through all of this. Later, when I came downstairs, my sister took me aside and told me what had transpired. I was so grateful that they handled this for me. (Up to this point he didn't know where I was or where I was living; I'm still a little surprised he found out.)

Later that night, I kept thinking I needed to move my car; that it wasn't safe parked right in from of the house. So, around 11:30 I dragged my sister out to go with me to move it just around the corner. As I was getting into my car, I noticed a truck that I hadn't seen before in the parking lot and people were just sitting in it. They looked suspicious. But I didn't think much of it until, when we turned our car on, they turned theirs on as well. We drove off in opposite directions, but after we parked and were getting out to go back home, the same truck was slowly circling around the parking lot again. When they saw us, they turned the other direction and took off.

I was freaked out, I've never been stalked before. And I guess, I wasn't...my car was being stalked. I'm pretty sure it was my husband waiting until we had turned out our lights in the house before he stole my car. Or should I say 'our car' which he still has keys for.

My anniversary was on Saturday, so I think this was just his way of saying he remembered it. Lucky me.

Since then, I have experienced such utter sadness, loneliness, discouragement, and most of all self doubt. I just want all of this to be done with and behind me. I want to be on with a new chapter of my life. But it seems impossible.

If I don't win my parental rights back in this case, I may never see my children again. The thought of that sends me shooting down into a spiral of depression faster than anything! Then the self loathing starts. Followed by all the memories of when I wasn't a great Mommy. And that feeds into the beliefs that my husband and his parents are right about me...that my children are better off without me.

Hopeless, faithless, despair.

That's where I find myself today.