'Twas the night before conception, when all through X&Y
Not a creature was stirring, not even old Bry;
The pipettes were all stacked in the lab with care,
In prep for the babies that soon would be there;
The frozen sperm were nestled all snug in their dewars,
With visions of fertilisation stamped into their futures;
Some were from donors, keen to help others,
Whilst others were reserved to make sisters or brothers
When out on New Walk there arose such a clatter,
Bry sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon shone on Leicester’s new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to New Walk below,
When what to his wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer,
The little old driver, he must be St. Nick.
Bringing gifts for the dedicated team at the clinic.
For the nurses and docs
Santa brought lots of chocs.
Whilst for the lab team
He knew how to fulfil their dream
He had new microscopes safely tucked in his sleigh
To help 2022’s babies to get underway.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
Let’s help X&Y and the fertility their fixing
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
Santa sprinkled the clinic with his fertility dust
“Good luck X&Y, help them you must”
He then sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”