After two years of trying to have a baby, we had nearly given up. We had already decided that we would do nothing that required any sort of medical invasion. So, it was a lot of tracking my cycle with a basal thermometer and hoping.

I knew from that tracking that December 25 was going to be a “good” day. Plus, we both had it off from work. So, I wrote a letter to Santa Claus. I told Santa that Christmas was going to be a good day, and that I really wanted to get pregnant as my Christmas present. I remember my tears splashing the ink on the paper. I can feel myself tearing up a little now just remembering.

I addressed the letter to…
Santa Claus
The North Pole

...and put dropped it in the mailbox.

Rose was born the following September.

The next year, I wrote a letter to Santa, thanking him for his present. I enclosed $5 in the envelope, to go towards the answering of letters to Santa Claus. I don’t know to whom the letters to Santa go to – I heard that a social service agency opens them in case there’s children’s stories of neglect or abuse in them. In any case, I thought giving Santa five dollars in gratitude was the least I could do.