I know with my recent happy news, it may seem like I don’t understand what it’s like to try and survive a childless holiday, but before the joy of this year, I faced this season like you–cringing at every pregnancy announcement, teary-eyed at the “baby’s first Christmas” ornaments, and generally, feeling empty.

Last year I remember very specifically when we began our Christmas shopping we were in Kansas City at the biggest Hallmark I’ve ever seen. My husband loves Christmas. Scratch that, he is OBSESSED, so of course we had to go look at all things Christmas, but as anyone who has gone through infertility knows, with the abundance of holly and jolly comes reminders that our one Christmas wish will not be coming true this year. I fingered through the cards, nodding at everything that Anthony felt we must buy for the house this year. Then, I stopped.

It was a picture frame with a picture of a sonogram of a baby’s heartbeat. It came in blue and pink and said something very cheery on it, I’m sure, but I don’t remember now what that was. I just stared at that picture. I couldn’t look away. My eyes burned and I touched the edge of it, knowing that I had no reason to purchase such a thing.

Anthony saw me and asked what was wrong, to which I didn’t respond, but only motioned to the frame. He held me and, despite my best efforts, a few small tears found their way out. To anyone else, this moment happened so quickly, they wouldn’t have even noticed. That’s the thing about infertility–it’s so easy to hide.

This was just a second, but there were hundreds more like it that followed. Like getting my period right before Christmas and having to truly admit it wouldn’t happen this year. Like participating in the holiday craft fairs and watching newborns and tots pass me by in the hundreds. Like the equal amounts of joy and pain I had when greeting my beautiful baby nieces Christmas morning in their PJ’s.

If this is your reality this year, my heart is with you. I was there, dear one, and my heart will always feel the pain of my sisters’ going through the holidays without a child. I can’t give you a reason why it isn’t you. I can’t explain why your name is on a waiting list and others seem to cut in front of you. I don’t have the answers to the questions that I know you’ve been asking through a veil of tears and anger.

All I can say is the only thing that can be said. It isn’t fair. It isn’t right. It just is. And until your day comes, your heart will continue to endure until one day you will feel the burden of want lift from you–one way or another.

As you navigate your way through this season full of triggers and trials, give yourself grace and give yourself time. You’ll need it–a lot of it. Turn toward your spouse and lean on each other–you’ve been blessed to have one another to confide in. Be as honest as you can bear to be with those around you, but mostly, just be kind to yourself.

Your day is coming, dear, dear one. Know that I am rooting for you, wherever you are <3.