30w0d: Christmas

Last Christmas, I cried. Despite having been on an SSRI for almost 3 weeks, I cried on both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I cried over my infertility, I cried over being childless, I cried over the damn cyst and the fact that, despite commencing IVF in September, we had yet to make it to egg retrieval. (We had yet, in fact, to correctly make it through the suppression phase.) I cried over my loss of hope, over my inability to enjoy much of my life. I would have skipped the whole season if possible.

This Christmas, my boys kicked me non-stop. I didn't cry once. (I did tear up looking at some of the baby clothes we'd been given--baby clothes, for my babies.) I love almost every single thing about my life, and I can say I enjoyed almost every single thing about this (epic, 10-day) Christmas.

Next Christmas, if all goes well, my two sons will be crawling around, and I'll be terrified of them injuring themselves on the tree. I'll get to play Santa (even though they won't know it). My husband and I can take pictures and make movies called "Their First Christmas". That Christmas will be even better than this one.

Amazing.

I know not everyone dealing with infertility eventually becomes a parent, and I support the decision some make to live child-free. But oh my word, what joy IVF has brought into my life.

This Christmas, I know exactly how lucky I am.