O Christmas tree, you really are beautiful. Each colored light sparkles in the darkness of our living room. Every branch adorned with a memory of our marriage. Your shining star gleams in the darkness like a beacon of hope for all the world awaiting Santa's arrival and the celebration of our Lord's birth. The icing on the cake, tinsel (which my husband doesn't understand how to put on and can never seem to place just right) glistens on the tip of every branch.
Yet, looking at you as I have every night since putting you up, I cannot help but constantly think what a different sight you should have seen this year. You should have seen a little baby perched right in front of you dressed in a "my first Christmas" outfit. A baby straining to take hold of a branch or two and rob you of a few needles in hopes of grabbing a glittery ornament. There should have been a multitude of perfectly wrapped packages around you this year. On Christmas Eve you would have seen two giddy parents making sure everything was impeccable for their baby's first Christmas because you know all baby's remember their first Christmas. You might have even seen a few family nights snuggled on the couch with a roaring fire burning this Christmas season. From your position you would have seen love, joy, and so much happiness.
What you saw instead was a couple trying to figure out how to survive their first Christmas without their baby that should have seen all of those things. You watched as we wrapped fewer presents. Ever glistening, you watched as we drank a little too much wine and held each other close just trying to survive the cheer of the holiday's without that precious child. You heard endless conversation preps of our responses to what others might ask of us about our "family". You stood silent as we quietly opened our presents from each other not wanting to mention how things would have been different this year around you, O Christmas tree.
Yes, dear Christmas tree, I know that you are not what makes the season merry, but some how you do. Your presence seems to capture the magic and glow of the season. As I look at you now, I can't help but pray that next year will be different. Next year has something that every new year holds, hope. Until next time, always Chasing Hope.
Of all the hurdles we have had to jump through in the last three years, I have found the wait time of our adoption to be the most excruciating experience. With our infertility journey, each new cycle presented itself with a method or steps to follow.
1. Begin cycle and track days
2. Take meds cycle days 3-7
3. Begin tracking ovulation on day 10
4. On peak day have fun (or try to)
5. Day 17 head to the lab for blood work to ensure of an ovulation serge
6. Wait until period begins (which is always inevitable)
7. Cry, eat chocolate, call the doctor for more meds
8. Repeat
Adoption, on the other hand, is a whole different ball game. In the beginning it was stressful. All the paperwork, making sure you have the correct forms, interviews, home visits and so much more were enough to push anyone off the deep end. What I wasn't prepared for was the endless wait. There is nothing to do. We are at the mercy of the agency and potential birthmothers.
Just the other day I sent an email to Angel asking almost begging for something to be able to do. I knew the answer to my foolish question was that we just had to wait, but I wanted to make sure. I also know that our agency deals with a large amount of people, and there are other couples who have been waiting longer than we have. She reminded me that we have only been waiting for 5 months and that the average wait time is 11-18 months. I'm not going to lie and say that I wasn't irritated. I was a little ticked. Yes, we have only been waiting 5 short months with you but that does not discount the years we have been waiting to become parents.
I am getting so tired of "waiting". As of this moment we have been waiting to have a child for 3 years and 9 months. Friends, cousins, and so many others have had children some even lapping me having their second child. Here I sit with empty arms and a broken heart. It seems like this period of my life will never end. This post won't end with a good feeling or word to the wise because frankly I'm not very wise. It will just simply end with what I have come to see as a period that might never end for me, the wait. Until next time, always Chasing Hope.
Yet, looking at you as I have every night since putting you up, I cannot help but constantly think what a different sight you should have seen this year. You should have seen a little baby perched right in front of you dressed in a "my first Christmas" outfit. A baby straining to take hold of a branch or two and rob you of a few needles in hopes of grabbing a glittery ornament. There should have been a multitude of perfectly wrapped packages around you this year. On Christmas Eve you would have seen two giddy parents making sure everything was impeccable for their baby's first Christmas because you know all baby's remember their first Christmas. You might have even seen a few family nights snuggled on the couch with a roaring fire burning this Christmas season. From your position you would have seen love, joy, and so much happiness.