I’m sure some of you have noticed how long it’s been between episode 3 and this episode. My goal was to produce an episode each week. And it’s perfectly doable. But here’s the thing about this podcast. I started this as a way to deal with my grief because therapy was not working for me. I listened to God when he led me down this path as a way to not only tell my story, but to process my feelings of grief and loss. I listened, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Not only am I trying to process my grief from losing my dad, but now I’m trying to work through a c-section that has had more downs than ups. I won’t lie and say that what is supposed to be the happiest time with a little one has been just that. I didn’t realize how traumatic the entire process has been. Needles never used to bother me…I cringe at the word needle now. Going to the doctor never bothered me. Now I have tried and succeeded in avoiding my postpartum visit so I don’t have to go in and tell him that everything is not perfect yet. I’ve experienced pain that I’ve never experienced before, and the level of frustration at not being able to do what I used to be able to do is mounting. Things just don’t feel right and that makes things hard. I fear the unknown as it is, but now, the unknown is inside of me. There was damage. There was unknown pain. There were complications that have created issues. I’m not saying that my experience was the worst it could have been, but reflecting on everything that happened throws me into a tailspin and I avoid talking about any of it. Instead of dealing with it, I throw myself into other things, like cleaning and organizing. In addition to what I didn’t realize was a healing process, I’m also trying to process past emotions that I’ve avoided. This podcast, talking about my story, opens up old wounds. It uncovers emotions that I’ve tried so hard to bury. And continuing to talk is difficult. I’ve been avoiding this podcast. I keep telling myself that I’ll get to it. Or I’ll tell myself that I need to sit down and get it done. But if I sit down just to get it done, is that the point? I’ve allowed myself to become detached from a project I just began because I was unsure how to handle everything that came with it. I became afraid of opening up and I allowed myself to do what I always do: run from it. I lied to myself, convincing myself I was too busy for it. But the idea of creating this has never left me. The idea that my story can help others is the reason that I need to continue the journey I began. If you’ve ever tried to process grief, you’ll understand. By avoiding something difficult, I was able to act like it didn’t happen. But it did. And my story continues on even though this terrible thing happened. I’ve been thinking a lot about Christmas. I remember up until a few years ago that the transition from summer to fall to winter was one that I relished. I loved the falling of the leaves and the smells in the air. I loved everything about it. Christmas came gradually, and there was a feeling attached to the season that is so hard to describe. Until a few years ago when the feeling changed. The transition still happens. Leaves change colors, the temperatures drop, the world is filled with all things holiday and Christmas. But the last few years have felt different somehow. Christmas itself isn’t the same. I have been trying to pinpoint exactly what feels different, but I still can’t exactly identify it. I know that this season is not a joyous one for everyone. When I was younger, I truly believed this season was joyous for everyone, that everyone loved Christmas, and that everyone saw this season as one full of all that glitters. If you’ve ever been to my house during the holidays (or to my mom’s house), you’ll know that I go all out when it comes to decorating. My husband told my son that “mommy makes Christmas throw up at our house buddy.” I heard him, made a mental note, and then went to Hobby Lobby the next day for even mo