Broken glass

Our last ICSI cycle was full of hope, tinged with an unpalatable dose of realism. We knew, from our previous cycle, it was unlikely to be successful but we still hoped. We still dreamed. We got one stage further in the process, and made it to egg retrieval, and as I waited in the theatre, I could feel myself getting emotional.

To calm myself down, I started singing Chasing Cars in my head. As the drugs took hold I started to hallucinate, I imagined I was in our back garden, playing with our child – I had images of us playing swings and airplanes, climbing a huge apple tree (we had bought a very small apple tree a few days earlier), running around in circles and finishing up lying on the grass beside each other. When I came around, I was very disoriented and the song was still going around in my head.

The following morning, our hopes were smashed. Like a glass bauble, they smashed into tiny pieces that exploded everywhere. They’re still turning up in the most unexpected places, hurting us. I know someday those glass pieces will reform to become a new dream, they will fuse together to become something different and beautiful. But tonight, they are pieces of broken glass.

 

Candles and crystal.

Despite being an affirmed atheist, I used to love Christmas. Last year, I found Christmas difficult – our first ICSI cycle was cancelled and we weren’t sure whether we’d be able to start a cycle in January. I found myself muttering, for the first time, that Christmas was for children. I wasn’t having an easy time, and was beginning to realise that we might never have kids.

This year, we know we will never have kids. So, in our family, Christmas can’t be just for children. Things have been hectic for me in work recently – we had a big conference this week – so I haven’t really had much chance to think or plan for Christmas. But I realised that I had, without realising it, been wondering how to ‘reclaim Christmas’. So, I’ve decided we’re going to have a ‘sophisticated Christmas’. Of course, M. did snort with derision when I proclaimed this, pointing out our distinct lack of sophistication.

Two things that don’t go with children: candles and crystal. So, I’m busy getting candles of all variety of shape and sizes. I’ve also recently bought lovely crystal glasses, that will get their first outing on Christmas day. And we will have a lovely twinkling, flickering Christmas.

Our tree will be decorated with the decorations we’ve gathered over the years, without any ornament on top. Every year, as the youngest in the house, I’ve put whatever (its varied from year to year) on the top of the tree. We’re starting a new tradition in our home, the top of the tree will stay unadorned.

Tintin, Paris 2011

I have recently found out that, traditionally, a 10th wedding anniversary is celebrated as a tin anniversary.

It’s our 10th wedding anniversary shortly. We’re going to Paris to celebrate. We’ve never bothered celebrating wedding anniversaries previously. There’s been more than one year where one or the other, or both of us, forgot our wedding anniversary. There was also a year where M. forgot, and I ‘misremembered’ the date. But this year, we’re going to celebrate.

For families with children, family milestones tend to be built around children. Family celebrations are associated with births, first-steps, starting school, going on to college, starting a job, meeting a partner, the arrival of grandchildren. These tend to be shared and celebrated. We’re not going to have those milestones, so we have to mark our own celebrations. Have our own milestones. And celebrate that we are still here and enjoying life together.

We have to create our own traditions and celebrations. So we are going to Paris where we can sit in cafés, lose ourselves in waterlilies, gaze at the architecture and celebrate in Paris.