Sometimes Christmas is sad and that's ok.

In a holiday centered on tradition the birth of a baby, or a miracle, it's easy to notice the gaps and who is missing from the table. I may not tell you to your face I'm struggling because truth I just don't have the energy for that conversation. I also don't want to see the look of pity. It's easier to pretend I am tougher than I am. I just want to be left to my vices to get through. No grand gestures, please. Just give me the space to exist.

So what is Childless Christmas: Not everyone without children will experiance Childless Christmas. It's the post nuclear fallout of failed fertility treatment, pregnancy and or childloss. The dream of children that never materialized for whatever reason.

What does it look like?

Wondering if it's worth decorating this year.

No trips to see Santa Wondering what they would have asked for.

Cookies made in silence.

Toys bought and donated.

Christmas movies watched alone.

Mass with a manger story in a pew to yourself.

A tree without hand-drawn ornaments.

No sound of children waking to peek.

Sitting in a room full of people and loosing yourself.

It's an empty stocking.

A way too silent night.

Putting it all away and wondering if anyone will ever want it.

It's a mechanical feeling of going through the motions though you feel like one of those chocolate Santas.

It's surviving by any means necessary.

Lauren Ream

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash