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Five Christmases of Infertility

Christmas is almost here. My fifth one since trying to have a baby. Five Christmases of no "First Baby" ornaments, no child waking us up early in the morning to open presents or seeing what Santa brought them. Before you stop reading this, thinking it to be just another infertile wah-wahing over not having a baby for Christmas, I beg you to indulge me a little. Yes, I have no baby. I don’t have a glimmer of a baby. There is a part of me that is certainly sad about that. There is a part of me that would rather discuss said sadness and give you all the reasons that this time of year pisses me off to be infertile. I think it comes from five years of getting nowhere near overcoming infertility. (See? I’m starting to discuss it.)

If you are still reading this, I admire you. No one wants to hear depressing things in December.

I want to instead tell you what I am thankful for.

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My mom just finished her last round of what we call "Shitty Chemo of Seven Hells." She will start her "Less Shitty Chemo of Seven Hells" soon, but the worst of the chemo will hopefully be over. (Side note: This is the first time my mom has probably heard me call it that. She doesn’t swear as much as I do.)

Before said Shitty Chemo, my sister and her husband drove home from across the country early the day before Thanksgiving and stayed overnight at my house. I had invited my parents over for a brunch, and ended up completely surprising my mom with my sister walking out of my bedroom. Seriously. It should have been a YouTube video watching my mom shriek and then burst into tears hugging her.

Our future children, however they may come, will never deny how much they were fought for.

I sent out some Christmas cards to women I found soon after starting my blog three years ago. I have no child, but I have made friends with some of the best girls I could ever imagine. I sometimes ask myself if I would rather have had multiple children in alarming procession when we first started trying, or would I rather have been faced with the most heartbreaking circumstances with numerous women who were right there to walk alongside me? Try as I might to want the former, the better part of me knows my life has been forever changed for the good. If I had everything I wanted, I never would have met my small group through church. I would never have flown to Texas to meet in person the girl who has taught me to hope when there seems to be none. I wouldn’t have various mugs, ornaments, socks or journals if it weren’t for infertility bloggers organizing gift exchanges for each other.

My husband and I have grown closer. I hear stories of failed marriages, of abuse, of falling out of love. But my husband and I, we are strong. Is our marriage perfect? Ask me sometime about the righteous holler-fests we’ve had over the years. No one, however, would argue that we haven’t fought like hell for our family. Our future children, however they may come, will never deny how much they were fought for.

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I still have days where I tell Chris that if it weren’t for me, if he was with someone else, he would have children. He probably would have had a couple by now. I think it’s impossible to not have those feelings sometimes. He tells me to please stop being dramatic, that he married me for me, not for my reproductive ability. It’s his actions that prove it. He has seen me at my most unlovable and he choses to love me anyway. I’ve seen the relationships around me. We may not have children, but we have a great marriage. A marriage that won’t crumble so easily when things are hard. Infertility has taught me that.

So this Christmas is going to be OK. Will there be moments when I want to cry over the unfairness of things? Hell yeah. But I have my mom with me. My two sisters. My sisters in infertility to help me get through it. I have the most amazing husband.

I think Christmas is going to be OK.

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