I was doing pretty well at propping up my Christmas spirit. We got a shallow layer of snow that at least makes the outdoors look like winter and not an unusually cold and dreary November. The house is prepared to receive eight family members, including the hanging of festive garlands and buying of lots of interesting cheeses. What else do guests need? Towels? Use this aged cheddar with chives. My husband even squealed like a girl and said I feel Christmasy! Then I stopped by the home of pregnant best friend to drop off their Christmas gift, and my spirit got completely crushed. I didn't even stay! But their little apartment was so cozy and full of joy. She's made the transition from noticeably with child to super pregnant. The place just reeked of happy nesting people about to experience the Great Change. Oh wait, that's menopause. The Other Great Change.
I firmly believe that feeling sadness in the face of other people's reproductive success is a natural, unavoidable response: only the rarest of people can shrug off this kind of experience and remain serene in the face of it. I'm utterly not that person. It certainly makes me mad that I can't control my feelings, but I'm not going to feel bad about feeling bad. I'll just wait till something makes me feel better. Perhaps a pregnancy announcement from one of you. That's right, someone needs to get pregnant this cycle to make me feel better. Don't let me down.