What a week, chock full of longing and loss and general unpleasantness. A good friend’s cat is dying. I’ve got a fever and bacterial sinus infection. And somehow a strange sort of milestone snuck up on me. Eighteen months. Eighteen months since Felix died and was removed from my body via c-section. Not long afterwards the doc told us we could try again, but that we should wait eighteen months until my next pregnancy. That time is now, but there is no longer an “us” so it’s a moot point. Conditions aren’t exactly ripe. I guess it’s just time to acknowledge that and move on.

Which is easier said than done.

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