Last Christmas . . . (again, ya know, like the song?)

We attended our friends' annual Christmas party this past Saturday. At this same party last year, the Hubby inexplicably "announced" to some of our friends that we were trying. One of those friends is not known for his discretion, so by New Year's Eve, all of our friends at least wondered if they didn't know for sure.

So, here we were Saturday night, one year later, at this party where we and one other couple (who don't plan on having kids) were the only ones without kids. Last year, I was annoyed at the Hubby for having let the cat out of the bag, but mostly laughed it off because I knew that this year, at the very least, we'd be pregnant at that party, but most likely, we'd have an little one and possibly not even be at the party.

I started a tradition when we got married of buying a new ornament every years. My goal is for them to have some meaning for our lives that year. The first year, it was a "B" for our last name (I wanted a bride and groom, but could never find one I love; I have since found many I love; whatever). Last year, I was in an odd place with TTC, so hopeful and new and all I could think was that this year, I'd be buying a baby's first Christmas or something like that. Yeah, not so much.

Last Christmas, or a few days after, my mom told me that I had missed my cousin "announcing" to the family on Christmas Eve (we had to miss that party due to a freak snowstorm) that she and her husband were going to start trying in March. I knew my mom was telling me as a "I really want you to have one first" push. So, I went ahead and said to her "well, we have a few months on her, so there's a shot." And I really thought there was. Like, really, truly, it really didn't seem real that we wouldn't have a baby this Christmas. (My cousin is not pregnant yet either.)

Christmas is turning out to be harder than I thought. I knew it would be to a certain extent because Christmas is so child oriented. But, it wasn't until I started doing so many of my familiar things that memories of what I expected to be true for this year came flooding back. Now, I can hardly look at ornaments or hear a Christmas carol without fighting back the tears.

And I hate that. And I hate that I have the same thoughts this year--oh, NEXT year, I'll be buying baby's first ornament instead of one that reads "Believe." And NEXT year, I'll be thinking of my baby and crying to "Mary Did You Know" instead of blinking back tears to "All I Want for Christmas is You" or "Merry Christmas, Darling."

I find myself creeping into my forbidden place--the place where I start to question and ask why. I have a very big rule against that. I firmly believe that somehow, some way, God has a plan, even when thinks are dark or bleak or make no sense.

And if ever I should remember that it is at Christmas.

After all, Christmas is when the miracles happen.