Oh, Christmastime when we celebrate the woman who got pregnant without trying, worship the small baby born to her. Advent, with its talk of waiting, is such a painful time to be in the infertile club. Pictures in the mail of happy families and often pregnancy announcements trigger tears and loneliness. I remember it so well. Last year on the solstice I went to a blue Christmas service and bawled my eyes out. We held space for all the sadness that exists in this world. Being allowed to cry in public without being comforted, just witnessing the collective grief of it all was such a relief. It’s supposed to be this joyous season but it has so often felt like a mean trick being played on me. The short days, the pressure to buy the best gift, the parties that you can’t afford to host and don’t get invited to, all the matching family pajamas in your Instagram feed, the bitterly cold wind.

This year I’m in the happy family camp, we have a glowing fire of togetherness and peace, and joy. We have multiple sets of matching pajamas and a cheerful little bundle of joy in our home. One year ago today, December 10th, we secretly transferred our little embryo and started the pregnancy that would lead to this unbelievably happy outcome. I remember somehow knowing he was the one that would stick, I was confident and calm, When I went to that blue Christmas gathering I KNEW I was a little bit pregnant and still I emptied my heart of all the tears I had been saving up for all the years I wasn’t. It feels so good to “win” and get the thing I wanted for so long, but I still feel the loss this time of year.

Have you heard that saying “if you don’t have anything nice to say, come sit by me”? I’m that friend. If Christmas has you feeling down you can call me with your bummer and I will nod and pour you more eggnog. Is it your first holiday season missing an important family member, or does your divorce still sting this time of year, or maybe you don’t have the money to be as generous as you would like to be. There are so many ways the happy holidays are only happy-ish. I will not should you about gratitude, and seeing the good in whatever hard thing is before you. You do not have to make anything out of the lemons you have been given. Also, can we change that saying to something less delicious and versatile than lemons? Maybe sardines? They are useful in a few things but mostly a difficult ingredient to use.

I have no wisdom to offer today. You aren’t alone. That’s it

Happy trasnsfer-versary baby boy. We waited so crazy long for you. Your stocking hung by the fire with care, your eyes fixated on the twinkling tree, and your giggles at the falling snow are all visions of persistence paying off. You are a beacon of hope to all who are still waiting for their circumstances to change. The road to success is often paved with the failures and losses of many who walked the road before you. On transver-versary I raise my glass to science, to doctors who invented medicine and procedures to make this baby possible. I salute all the women who tried this medicine when it was taboo to do so, who have kept their IVF secret because the shame of infertility was too much. To everyone whose heartbreak led to a discovery that would offer hope to a family like mine. I am thankful for your stories and for blazing a trail through this lonely part of the woods so I could walk through it. I’m so lucky to be infertile at a time when medicine makes a family possible for us. I raise my glass to the little embryo that could, we love you more than words can say. You are making me think about liking Christmas baby Fox.