Christmas is a difficult time for those struggling with infertility - somehow it reminds you of all the things you can't have. A while ago, Loribeth had a great post which neatly captured all poignancy of a Christmas without children, which I went back and read as I began to think about our own plans for the holiday season.
Over the years, Mr H and I have created our own Christmas routine. We try not to get caught up in the relentless consumerism that appears to grip the entire country at this time of year. Going round the supermarket yesterday, I was faintly sickened by the excess of it all - the shelves were groaning with processed, over-packaged, fat-laden, Christmas-themed goodies (stilton & cranberry flavoured crisp anyone, or perhaps a white chocolate topped mince pie?). People were already beginning to stockpile loaves of bread, and a couple were having a bitter exchange of words next to the packets of bread sauce mix. Looking around at the overflowing trolleys in the queues for the checkouts, I couldn't help but wonder: how much of this food will go uneaten into landfill sites when people clear out their fridges and cupboards in the new year?
We don't bother with turkey and all the trimmings; for the last couple of years, we have instead had a shellfish platter from the fabulous Ramus Seafood Emporium. We generally treat ourselves to a bottle of champagne, or else a really good dry white wine, and buy each other one small gift each. We spend most of the day lazing in front of an open fire, reading, chatting or watching the television (if I have my way, we will also play board games, although Mr H is not as keen as I am!) If the weather is nice, we may go for a walk in the afternoon.
This year, however, I am counting down to Christmas for a very different reason: our Day 21 appointment is scheduled for 8.20am on Christmas Eve.
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