Christmas Eve is bittersweet for me. I love it, in general. This year, I'm singing a solo at our Christmas Eve (evening) service. Thinking of Christmas Eve service always warms my heart when I remember standing with my family in a darkened sanctuary, faces lit by candles, surrounded by the voices singing "Silent Night." Closing my eyes, I can feel the peace of that moment. No stress about wrapping paper, the gift you forgot or how to drive through the snow. Just pure calm.

The Munchkin was due on Christmas Eve 2003. She came earlier than that, obviously, as we've already celebrated her birthday. But I remember Christmas Eve as that due date. I always will.

When I first learned that I was pregnant with the Munchkin, I tried to do the math in my head. My periods were not extremely regular (and have only gotten worse with age) but I had a general idea of when my last period had arrived. I remember counting on my fingers through the months and coming up with something in late December.

At that first doctor's appointment, my calculations were confirmed. December 24th. Christmas Eve. Whenever I told anyone my due date, I got two kinds of responses:

"Aww, poor kid. Her birthday and/or Christmas will always be smooshed together. No fun." Gee, thanks! Because, I planned this unplanned pregnancy just in that manner: to screw my kid out of presents.

"Oh! A Christmas baby! How wonderful! Whatta gift!" Of course, this response was further driven home when people learned that I was placing my daughter. "Oh? What an amazing and timely gift for the parents!" Yep. Again, that's exactly why I timed this unplanned pregnancy. To give a great Christmas gift to some unknown family.

Sigh.

I remember, in the months before I started making an adoption plan, thinking about how we would spend our first Christmas together. I thought of the ornament I would buy for her and hang on our tree. I thought of little, age appropriate presents that I could buy for her to "open." I thought about what gorgeous, frilly little Christmas dress I could clothe her in... and if my parents would let us attend Christmas Eve service with them or not.

None of that happened, of course. She was born on the 13th. I didn't have an ornament to hang on my tree. I didn't have presents for her to unwrap. I didn't get to buy a cute little dress to show her off to family and friends. To be honest, in 2003, I didn't even go to Christmas Eve service.

It feels so strange to think back on these moments, not so long ago but, emotionally distanced from my heart. Thinking of them now, a familiar ache sits on my chest like a great big elephant. My Mom buys her a Christmas themed dress every year; I know it's because of her same love of little Christmas dresses, frills and all.

I've never, ever bought her a Christmas dress.

...maybe someday.