"Those who walked in darkness have seen a great light;
Upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone."
I love Christmas Mass at midnight, especially in Polish, especially with koledy. (And I've never seen a Polish church in the US yet that isn't magnificent.)
Christmas is, of course, for everyone, and the first Christmas for those awaiting the Messiah; but I can't help thinking that those words were written especially for us infertiles.
I thought about Mary and her one (divine) child, when other Jewish women had so many. And about the point another blogger just made - that at the circumcision, she knew she would have to GIVE HIM BACK. I used to think about that all the time, in discernment for the religious life. (I had forgotten.) I had blessings that I might have to relinquish. When I got married I stopped thinking about it. That was silly. Sometimes the blessing you most anticipate is the one you have to return.
At Christmas Mass, I told God that if His will was that I should never have children, then I could carry that cross; and I really meant it. He'll have to fix everything else I need - and the list is long - but I can carry that.
In news of far smaller import, the tamoxifen appears to have fixed my cycle completely - it's totally normal. Looks like today or tomorrow will be peak day. My husband has decided that he doesn't want to hope for a baby at all (or even think of anything as a "fertile" phase), but I managed to convince him to give today a shot.
I won't hope in two weeks to miss anything. I won't be surprised or even displeased when I get my period (unless the cycle is messed up - again). I don't consider us cycling or ttc; I'm checking off treatment obligations until I get to retire permanently. But today, TODAY I thought fondly about the idea of conceiving something. (And about how amusing it would be to conceive a child on Christmas day at a monastery...)
I know that hope on peak day and fatalism later is not quite the standard infertile thought pattern. And they say the definition of insanity is being able to hold two contradictory ideas in your head at the same time. But that's OK. I don't think I'm undermining my conviction that I'll never switch teams; and living childless in the fertile world will still mean negotiating a delicate peace. I'm mostly ready for resignation, but not dealing with fertiles well full time.
But today, I can think, it's whatever God wants. He has secrets He's not telling. And today, I'm OK with that.