Post-Christmas Conversations and a Vow

Today is my first day back at work since Christmas.  I took yesterday off (as did most of my office) and I so wish that I could have stayed home today to dodge the post-Christmas conversations that are surrounding me by my co-workers, many of whom are parents (lucky shits). 

If I have to hear one more conversation starting with "what was the big gift this year in your house?!", I'm going to blurt out that it's great that your son/daughter got just the iPod touch or Kindle Fire or bike or Barbie dream house that they wanted... and that MY big gift was my period.  Seriously.  AF graced me with her unwanted presence on Christmas Eve.  How cruel is that (first Thanksgiving, now Christmas)?!  While children awoke in the middle of the night thinking that perhaps they heard Rudolph prancing on their roof, I awoke to cramps like I've never had before (Seriously.  They woke me up from a dead sleep.).  And to thoughts accompanying those gut-wrenching pains that my two should-have-been miracle babies were literally being flushed out of my uterus. 

Now, I get that just because I'm miserable, it doesn't mean that everyone else has to be miserable, too.  But it's just really hard dealing with this kind of a loss and then being surrounded by conversations highlighting just how much more fun and special children make Christmas. 

This was the Christmas that I was supposed to share the news of my pregnancy with my family.  This was supposed to be the Christmas that I would remember forever.  Instead, this Christmas is over, and it's the one that I want no memory of... I'm having a hard time letting it go though, because I'm not over this cycle yet.  The pain is still right there in the forefront of my mind.  It's so fresh.  My heart aches.  My eyes are swollen from tears that are shed every night.  I don't know what our next step is right now... we don't meet with my doctor for another week.  SEVEN days.  I don't know that I will make it... I need a plan.  Something to focus on.  Something to help me to move forward.

As I sit in my office trying desperately not to overhear my co-workers' conversation about what time their kids woke up to see if Santa came... I'm vowing to myself, that if I am ever so lucky to be able to partake in such a conversation that I'll do so quietly, with the understanding that someone next door might be crying inside, yearning for exactly what everyone else around them seems to have.  I vow that I'll never forget just how I felt this Christmas.