Silent Night (part 1)

They don’t happen often, really. The breakdowns. I suppose it’s because I’ve gotten used to the cyclical disappointment. I know what to expect and when to expect it… every single month. Clockwork. But Christmas Eve provoked an unforeseen glitch in my defenses.


When I realized what was happening, I tried to fight it. I shoved the heartache down with as much normality as I could muster — a few chuckles at the family dinner and a couple of bathroom breaks to discourage those pesky tears from taking shape. And it worked up until the moment Christmas Eve found us at home… alone… again.  


Everything was still. The Christmas tree clung to its corner of the living room illuminating the emptiness inside. There were no cookies on the counter, no excited giggles from the other room, no whispered plots of catching the big guy in action. Because after the family antics were over and the priest had given the final Christmas Eve blessing, it was a Thursday night in the Calavitta household. It was a Thursday night like every other Thursday night. And that’s what did me in.


I held it together as I tiptoed down the hallway toward that quiet living room. I was determined to bury the sorrow down deep in the silence of my own thoughts. But the silence began to beat against whatever fragile defenses I attempted to harbor, each step increasing the weight of the tears that were rebelliously pooling in the corner of my eyes.





One-by-one, the sorrow advanced in a flurry of tears.


I tumbled into my husband’s arms that night. No. I collapsed into them. I collapsed into them in heavy heaves fraught with exhaustion. And I told him. I told him that I felt like we were being passed up. I told him that I felt forsaken. And then I remembered. I remembered all of the chances my body had to get it right. I remembered all of the gluten and dairy I have so studiously passed up in an attempt to help fix the broken inside. I remembered the surgery. I remembered the costs. I remembered the vitamins and the cautious hope and the waiting. And I let it all out. Right there in my husband’s arms. I let it all out.


. . . to be continued.


7 thoughts on “Silent Night (part 1)

  1. I’m so sorry you’re still dealing with this. I pray for you every morning on my jog. In some small way, I feel I can relate because I have the same longing for a mate. I also want a family, but first I need a boyfriend! LOL. For me, it helps to count my blessings – food to eat, shelter, my health….. I know you already know this, but sometimes it’s good to hear the reminder. Love you!

  2. Oh Brittany, you’ve just described all my feelings over the past couple weeks. So much pain and sadness, feelings of being left out and yes, of being passed over. I’m praying for peace for you! And healing!

  3. I feel your pain, and emotions and relate to all your words. The tears, the feelings, the costs, oh the costs. This year Christmas and all that comes with Christmas was filled with tears and struggles to leave my house and safe place. I pray for you and for all the others carrying the cross of infertility.

  4. Brittany, I continue to pray that you and David are blessed with a child. Having been through infertility for a while, I know it’s hard. Our Lord’s plans are not always as direct or immediate as we would like. God bless you both on this journey.

  5. Brittany,
    I wanted you to know that you are in my prayers. I posted a while back as I was in the hospital awaiting the birth of my daughter whom God had already taken. I carried her 38 weeks. Madelyn died inutero and we lost her as well as our fight against infertility. We had been fighting for about 6 years. We however are done, however, I want you to know I am rooting for you and that I believe Madelyn is helping God find the perfect sole for you. It can happen, don’t give up and believe that what God walks us to he will walk is through. I have to believe that or I am not sure I would make it.

  6. I think it’s wonderful that she is sharing her story regarding infertility . After having gone through it myself, I feel that it really is the most NOT talked about subject. There are so many women who struggle with it and it’s so helpful to feel like we aren’t alone during that time.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *