Only three more days of Christmas music this year and then my Christmas radio station will switch back to playing Genesis and Air Supply. I drank in "O Holy Night" on my ride home tonight. It feels like an old friend is going back home after an extended visit.
Bye, Christmas. I'll miss you. Please write.
And tonight marked the last night of Chanukkah. We lit the candles for the final time and sang a rousing off-key version of "Chanukkah, Oh Chanukkah." I'll leave out the chanukkiah for a few more days on the pretense that I'm just too lazy to pack it back in the cabinet.
Sigh. This is a rainy, cold weekend. A perfect time for reading blogs.
Frances at Unyielding has a gorgeous post about the baby's room. About the various incarnations of the room--from empty to her stepson's room to a gym. And now the room will hold the child that they will adopt. She has a beautiful passage about her mother coming for a visit and she states: "I've been so angry with her all my life but now I am hopeful as I sit in my baby's room; wondering what my Mother will think of the mother that I am in my baby's room." That was such a gorgeous thought--wondering how her mother will view her as a mother. But you need to go to the post and read the thoughts from beginning to end.
For those who like to read and comment on the plethora of news articles that concern fertility, there is a new blog on the side bar on "in the news" called How to Make a Family. And it's been interesting thus far. A good source for news stories (and I believe the blog is written by a journalist). Plus they have a link to an upcoming commercial for a pee stick.
The Cracked Pot had a post this week that included one of the most profound ideas I read all week. She states: "I was hit by this sensation of feeling that that will never happen to me. I look at other people's babies, and feel like I'm never going to get there, that I'm just going to be waiting, and waiting, and waiting some more. And eventually I'll be a shriveled up old lady, and no baby, just a pretty nursery, a closet full of clothes, and a freezer full of milk. I just can't fully imagine getting to the travel stage (or hell, even the referral stage.) I keep waiting for someone to jump out from behind the curtain and yell "psych!" And really, after wanting this for so long (6.5 years) and actively trying for so long (18 months) - it's almost like the wanting and the trying have become a way of life, and it will never, ever actually happen." That final thought: that the wanting and trying have become a way of life. I thought about it all day.
Dosmamas had a post this week that completely stopped me in my tracks--and that is why I love blogs. Being exposed to someone else's intimate thoughts makes you see the world in an entirely different light. They already have a son that was conceived by Charlotte using the sperm of her wife's (S) brother. They are now trying to have another child, but S is having trouble conceiving. This week, they discussed the idea of Charlotte carrying the child again. They are obviously awaiting the outcome of this recent insemination, but they've also started discussing the future. Without sharing all the reasons for why this decision is difficult, Charlotte does admit: "I don't know if S or I can give up the possibility of her ever being pregnant or giving birth. It makes me very sad." It is not unique in the sense that it is an emotional process many infertile women go through as they try to resolve their infertility. Especially if their infertility leads to paths that do not include getting to experience a pregnancy. But what made this situation so unique and what made me sit with it all day in my heart, turning it over, is that S and Charlotte are both women--both supposed to be able to carry a child. And the heartache that must bring to not being able to escape the infertility for moments at a time when you shut the door to the house because your wife is pregnant. It wasn't a question--I was the only person in the house who could carry a child and all the pregnant women of the world were on the other side of that front door. And my heart went out to the two mamas as they navigate this new development. I hope this insemination works and they both get to experience pregnancy. And barring that, I hope that they come to a perfect peace as they conceive (or choose a different path to) their next child. Sending good thoughts their way on New Years this year.
Lastly, you'll probably pee in your pants a little if you go over to read (and sing) the Infertile 12 Days of Christmas that was composed at BigP and Me. But it's worth the underwear change.