It is the first work day after Christmas. Things should start to get back to normal now – and I’m glad.

Don’t get me wrong. I loved all of my presents. I loved the rich food and conversation of family and friends. I loved listening to my favorite radio station as it transitioned to Christmas carols.

I love so much about this time of year, but in a lot of ways it makes me sad. There is so much focus on a child, the true meaning of Christmas. And that focus should be there. But for infertile couples, focusing on a sweet baby – a miracle – well, it just hurts.

Usually, I cope by not ever offering to hold your new bundle of joy. I cope by not going to baby showers and not going to places or events that put me in the “line of fire” so to speak. I cope by not joining in when you complain you’re so stressed out because your kids are making you cranky.

I can’t allow myself to go there because focusing on babies makes me crazy. But this time of year, it is hard not to notice them. The whole season is built around children. From the nativity to Santa Claus, children are at the center of this holiday.

This year, when children gathered to sing Christmas songs, we watched. When ooohs and aaahs sounded as a toddler was paraded around in his or her Christmas finery, we listened. And when another Christmas came and we didn’t have a child, we ached.

Our cradle is empty but our hearts are full. We want our own Christmas miracle. Our sincere hope is that through adoption some day, we will be joined by a child as we read the first two chapters of Luke and celebrate a little baby born more than 2,000 years ago.