So most of my posts are light-hearted and quick. It’s not often that I have the time to really mull over what I want to say, but these stockings are no ordinary stockings and for my family they will always symbolize a very important Christmas in our lives. If you are looking for the stocking pattern you can click here to be taken directly to the shop, but if you’d like to stay and hear a story, read on.
It was the night before Christmas and my stockings laid in a pile of fabric, batting, and buttons. The patterns were trimmed out, but not made into anything recognizable. The disappointment on my daughter’s face was clear. She was so excited for her very own stocking like the ones that hung above my parents fireplace. My aunt had painstakingly crossed stitched each one unique and with our names. My daughter is sentimental, a lot like me, and things like this really matter to her.
“Maybe a Christmas Miracle will happen, and when we wake they will be finished,” she hoped aloud. I realized that somehow I needed to execute a Christmas Miracle, but I knew I didn’t have it in me. There were still presents to wrap and it was already late after spending the day with family bowling for our annual family Christmas tournament. I was spent. Not just the “its crazy because its the holidays” but just utterly drained and exhausted. I barely made it through bowling and my eyes drooped on the 40 minute ride down the canyon back home. I hadn’t always been so worn out, but the weeks leading up to Christmas had all but done me in.
I used to be invincible or at least that is what I thought until the day came when it was completely obvious that I wasn’t. Having grown up with two older brothers and multiple siblings; being threatened with the name whimp, chicken, or baby was enough to get me to try just about anything. Whether it was jumping off a cliff (literally) while skiing along side them or eating dog food I had to be game for about any challenge they put me up to.
So when I was looking at having a tonsillectomy as an adult and seeing that my husband had survived fairly well, I thought it would be a piece a cake, because I had been through two high risk pregnancies. I got this.
Never mind that my husband repeatedly let me know that it was an awful and totally miserable experience. He also researched it and found that on the scale of the most painful of surgeries this one was at the top, even above a bone marrow transplant. But I figured the findings were an exaggeration and that all would be fine.
I went to my surgery all smiles on the surface, and though quietly nervous I forged on. It was weird to think of being completely sedated. What was it like to be completely out? Would I wake back up? When I was coming out of the anesthesia I remember that I sobbed and cried and I didn’t even know why. It felt so good to cry. It does funny things to people and the nurse reassured me that even big burly men cried.
When I was more aware I felt better and though I was a titch nauseous I was doing alright. It just felt like a bad sore throat, and I had strep about a million times, so this was manageable. I was even able to handle some design business on the way home from the hospital.
We had family to help out and I dutifully began my recovery, staying in bed and drinking lots of ice water and taking my medicine. The thing is, you can only watch so much Netflix before a glumness settles over you and you get itching to be more productive. It’s a curse. I can’t enjoy doing nothing for very long.
The next couple days were manageable, not fun by any means, but manageable and I was feeling pretty good and was up and around the house a little more. My parents took the kids for the weekend, which turned out to be the greatest blessing. By Friday evening I was stir crazy and later in the evening is when I really starting bleeding. It went from bad to very bad, very quickly. Sparing the worse details I ended up being transported to the ER via ambulance.
The following week was agony and anyone who has been or knows someone having recovered from adult tonsil surgery knows that it is tough. Seconds felt like days and swallowing felt like shards of glass. On top of that I was anemic and pale and so tired. Just going up the stairs took me a while and made me winded and dizzy. I knew I needed to cut down my long list of to-do’s to just the essentials, and even then I wasn’t sure I would accomplish that.
When I had all that time to sit in my bed and recover I read. I came across a scripture that has changed my life. Moroni 10:22-23 ” And if ye have no hope ye must needs be in despair, and despair cometh because of iniquity. And Christ truly said unto our fathers: If ye have faith ye can do all things which expedient unto me.” I knew I could wallow in myself or I could choose hope and choose Christ and it made the gift of Christmas all the sweeter.
So there I was the night before Christmas and didn’t know how it would work out. I didn’t know if I could finish, but I knew with a little bit of hope I could start. I didn’t stop till it was done. It wasn’t easy, I was tired, but little by little it came together. Life is full of joys, challenges, and set backs. It has been a humbling experience to feel weak and helpless. With hope and faith the blessings always come. There is always hope if we have Christ in our lives. I wish you all the very best Christmas!
When I made my stockings. I wanted them tell a little bit of a story about each of us, but I didn’t want them to to clash against each other and look disjointed. I chose to do this by selecting fabric for the lining that fit each of our personalities. These stockings are meant to be playful and bright, but they can easily become more neutral or sophisticated depending on the materials and colors.
The patterns for these stockings are available for purchase in our Etsy shop. Click Here.