The First Night of Chanukah, Hashem Gave Me My Son

It happened two and a half years ago. I had been waiting so long for my first pregnancy. We weren’t religious at the time—we didn’t yet keep the Torah or mitzvot (commandments). But when I decided I wanted to have a child, I told myself I would do it the proper way, according to halacha (Jewish law).

The truth is, I didn’t know the first thing about the laws of taharat hamishpacha—family purity. I had no idea that there’s such a thing as checking for shivah nekiyim, the seven clean days. I thought you just go to the mikvah (ritual bath) when you feel it’s time, and that’s it. I truly believed I was doing it right. No one had ever explained it to me. No one had spoken to me about it. We waited one month, then two, and still—nothing was happening.

I have this perfectionist streak. When something’s not going right, I begin to panic. And during that time, things weren’t going smoothly in other areas of life either. Everything felt like it was falling apart. I was struggling through demanding and exhausting studies, and the weight of it all was too much.

A friend suggested I speak to the rebbetzin (rabbi’s wife) in her community. I was already feeling so desperate that I figured I had nothing to lose. After the rebbetzin’s class, I went up to her and explained what I was going through. She gently asked if I keep the laws of family purity. I answered, “Yes—I go to the mikvah.” Then she asked if I do all the necessary checks properly. I had no idea what she was talking about.

She kindly sent me to a kallah teacher (a woman who teaches the laws of marriage and purity), who taught me everything I had missed. And as she taught me, she also helped build my emunah (faith). She showed me the beauty in a life of Torah. Something opened in my heart. My friend helped with that, too. I had watched her grow stronger in faith, and I saw the miracles that happened to her. I wanted what she had.

So I began to strengthen my observance. I even made a personal agreement with Hashem: I would keep Shabbat, including not studying on Shabbat—and in return, He would help me pass the exams. I kept my part, and Hashem kept His. I passed the exams. It felt like someone up there was listening.

But the pregnancy still didn’t come. The pain I felt each month when I realized I hadn’t conceived—there are no words. It was a deep pain in the soul. Each month brought tears that came from the depths of my heart. And then came Chanukah.

Because I had begun learning more, I was watching a lot of inspirational videos (many from Hidabroot), and I learned that this time of year is especially suited for miracles and salvation. So I gave it everything I had—tehillim (Psalms), halachot (laws) of Chanukah, extra prayers. I did everything I could to bring about a miracle. I went to the mikvah with real joy and hopeful expectation. I prayed before and after, begging Hashem to help me.

And then the moment came.

The moment I realized... I still hadn’t conceived.

Ten months had passed. I had poured out my heart to Hashem again and again—and still, nothing. To make things even harder, I had two of the most difficult exams of the year—one in December and another in January. I studied from a place of heartbreak, but I knew I couldn’t fall apart. I had to pass.

After the exams, I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t want anything except to be a mother. I didn’t want to see other people’s babies. I couldn’t bear hearing another birth announcement. Every time someone said they were pregnant, it was like a knife to the heart. Eleven months had passed. Still nothing.

That’s when I broke.

I became numb. I still believed in Hashem, but I was totally crushed inside. I remember going to work and feeling like a robot. There was no life in me. I still did the bedikot (checks). I still went to the mikvah. I still prayed. But it was all done without feeling. Like I had run out of air. I kept doing what I had to, but I didn’t care what would come of it. I had surrendered.

I waited 14 days from when I noticed a possible change until I asked the doctor for a blood test. I didn’t want to hope. The results came back online: positive. But I didn’t rejoice. I didn’t even believe it. I thought maybe it was a mistake. I had built such strong walls of indifference that I couldn’t let myself feel anything.

Then my doctor called. “Do you know you’re pregnant?” he asked. “Yes,” I said quietly. “Why didn’t you call me? This is wonderful news!” he said. I tried to sound happy, but inside I still felt frozen.

And then time passed. And slowly, I started to feel the little baby growing inside me. The excitement came gradually. It really hit when we reached the end of the third month, when everything looked healthy and the doctor told us—it’s a boy. That’s when I finally let the joy in.

We told the family. The happiness was incredible. The pregnancy went beautifully, baruch Hashem (thank G-d). The birth came with its concerns, but passed peacefully, with Hashem’s help.

And when do you think he was born?

On the first night of Chanukah.

The miracle I had longed and prayed for with all my heart the year before came to life on that very day. His brit milah (circumcision) was held on the eighth day of Chanukah. Hashem is truly here—He heard me. He simply gave me the miracle of bringing a son into the world.

And that was my Chanukah miracle.