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A One-of-a-Kind Christmas

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Patagonia Through the Trees

My 2013 holiday season isn’t shaping up to be anything like my holidays in 2012, and I’m OK with that. In fact, I’m more than OK with it. I’m jumping up and down crazy happy about it.

Here’s why:

After years of infertility, I’m expecting. A baby. A real, live, kicking baby that will appear in all it’s secretly gendered glory (boy? girl?) sometime in the Spring of the lucky year of 2014.

The pregnancy hasn’t been without its challenges, of course, and I’ve found myself many a morning, poised over the toilet bowel, wondering how women actually like being pregnant. Extreme nausea? Check. Extreme fatigue? Check. Complications? Check. Bedrest? Check. Too many meds to count? Check, check and check. In the same way that my fertility journey wasn’t the easiest, my pregnancy journey hasn’t been the easiest either.

But I’m OK with that. (In fact, I’m more than OK with that.)

And so, because my 2013 is so different than my 2012, my holidays will have to adapt as well to fit the new, growing mold of a different sort of temporary holiday life. A holiday life in which I spend more time in bed than anywhere else. A holiday life in which I can’t eat all the blessed sugary foods of Christmastime, and a holiday life in which I won’t be playing in any snow. (As a California gal, though, that was never my forte.) And certainly a holiday life in which I won’t be making a trip to Cancun or Patagonia with my family as we’ve been known to do in efforts to simplify.

And I’m more than OK with that.

Because the rewards, of course, of spending a low-key holiday season wherein I’ll likely be typing away at my laptop in bed more than anything else far outweigh any annoyances. The benefits (a live, healthy babe who can enjoy his or her first Christmas from the comfort of my belly) in this case are too great to count, the blessings to numerous to wade through.  

And I’m more than OK with that.

And of course, there’s another hidden, suggestive upside peeking its head out in all of this. Maybe, maybe just maybe, all the restrictions placed on my life right now will actually allow me a more peaceful, happy holidays than I imagine. Or maybe even (gasp!) a more peaceful, happy holiday than I’ve had in years past. Could sweeping aside the hustle and bustle, and not decorating a house top-to-bottom and hosting 20 for dinner result in something more lovely than I expect? Could a holiday of rest be a glorious holiday unexpected?

If different is better than that’s what I think this holiday season just might be. Different.

(And better.)

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