My first guest post on Glow In The Woods went up today. It was so hard to write, not because of the subject matter (light knows I like to babble) but just because I had a topic and a deadline and I sat myself down to write. Maybe some people do well in that situation. I don’t. So it was nervewracking to send it in and hope it came across well, and hope it sounded like it belonged with all the other fabulous posts over there.

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I think my period is hovering just around the corner. I’m still waiting.

Work is going really well… I’m enjoying it. The people seem nice. When there are no customers we sit around and talk about girlie things, like labor. And, you know, I actually get to join in. As crappy as this year has been, as huge a loss as we have had, it is so awesome to finally get to join in these kinds of discussions. I’ve been there, I’ve experienced it. The infertile side of me is just so happy about that. I think these social situations would have been much harder before getting pregnant than they are now after our loss.

Everyone at work now knows about Devin and what happened, and they’ve been really good about not freaking out. I do notice everyone backpedals when they first find out… they apologise for bringing it up. I can understand that. Of course they’re going to feel nervous, they don’t know what kind of mental space I’m in. At least they are thinking about how horrible it must be. I respond by letting them know that it’s okay to talk about it, I’m okay with that. It doesn’t take them long to pick up on my ease of speaking about my pregnancy experience and I feel like I’ve been included as one of the “mommies.”

Watching the pregnant girl is hard though. She’s almost at her due date and of course everyone is talking about it. I try not to stare. Everyone else looks at her with pity, “Oh that poor girl, she’s so uncomfortable.” I’m the only one there who looks at her with envy. I would trade places with her in an instant. Not just because she’s getting a baby shortly, either – but simply because boy do I wish I knew what it felt like to be almost to your due date. I was cut short, and was still pretty comfortable. Oh I was having some trouble sleeping, and he had a foot in my ribs, but I still wasn’t huge, wasn’t ready to have it done with. I’d give anything to experience that. I really hope next time I can ride it out to my due date before having a meltdown and needing to get induced for my own sanity (because of the loss – not because of discomfort or anything). I feel like I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering what it’s like.

I know I’m unusual, and possibly a little irrational. Even among infertiles, who do treasure the experience, most people really just want the baby at the end. I revel in the pregnancy. I loved it so much. I miss it – not just Devin, but miss feeling pregnant. I miss the nausea, the aching, the waddle, the tight belly and popped-out belly button. I miss it so much it hurts.

If I was told I couldn’t get pregnant again I don’t know what I’d do. I spend every day counting down my time to doing IVF – to the next chance I get to be pregnant again. I’m really glad to be busy most of the day. I’m really glad to have something to do with my time. I know I’d spend my whole day obsessing, and that’s just not healthy. (Not certain pushing myself this hard is all that healthy, either, but at least it’s just temporary.)

My cat broke our internet. Actually, he broke the modem… which, unfortunately, is very necessary for getting on the internet. I’m at work right now quickly posting. I hopefully will be able to buy a new modem today when I’m done my stuff here… or else I could be very quiet for a while.

Let’s see what has happened in the past couple of days:
* Got a reminder for a $500 bill that was due months ago and I lost the bill for
* Our oil tank was filled, that’s $600 right there
* Got a letter from the city stating that we never paid some real estate taxes in 2005. Which is funny, because we have an escrow account and our mortgage company pays those. Has been since we bought the house in 2003. So now Den has been trying to track down WHY they didn’t pay, found out it’s because the old company (which is also the new mortgage company) sold the mortgage to someone else in 2005, so neither company paid the taxes, but they apparently mailed us a check that we never recieved. Obviously we need to pay more attention to those real estate tax notices. So that’s a very unexpected $800 bill

Then today Merlin killed the modem. It won’t be over $100, but it’s not going to be $10 either. And Den is also saying he needs a new monitor, since his old one died and he’s been using a loaner he needs to give back soon.

It’s not that we can’t afford it all now – I am working so we have extra money, but that money was supposed to be getting us ahead… paying off our credit card, redoing the house bits at a time. Instead all this shit happens and we’re still no further ahead than we were.

Yesterday evening, before the moden broke, I had a bit of a meltdown – well, Den and me both. So he took me out to dinner to try to cheer me up. I know, that’s counter-intuitive. But getting me out of the house and away from the site of the trainwreck was a good thing, trust me.

I am really tired, I am really cold, and I’m just feeling extremely frustrated. Plus my period still has not arrived, which means I think we’re pretty screwed for a december cycle. Looking more like january now. Which pisses me the fuck off.

One interesting side-effect of working at my new job Wednesday through Saturday is that I have to cram all my appointments into Monday and Tuesday – when I am, coincidentally, also supposed to be working at my other job. I really don’t know how all you fulltimers do it… how do you get the time to fix your car, or go to the doctor, or have a therapy session? I have non-stop appointments lately. Granted this is somewhat new, but it’s all stuff that should have been looked at prior to now.

Monday early morning I pick up an order for work, then go to my chiropractor appointment – which I am really, really looking forward to. Something about how I’m sitting at work is causing some lower back pain and I’m hoping she can ease that somewhat.

Then at noon I have my hour-long therapy session in which I’ll express more anger and frustration and she will tell me that it is normal. (Not saying it’s not useful, though.)

Tuesday morning my car has an appointment at the dealership to get looked over so they can report to Hyundai USA. Obviously they need it looked at by their own diagnostician before taking any steps to rectify the problem. The good news, as my hubby pointed out, is that they didn’t laugh at me when I told them that my car has a manufacturers defect. Not that I am harboring any illusions here, but at least we have a chance for them to fix it.

Tuesday afternoon from 1-3pm I have my allergy testing screen, which apparently involves a lot of little needles in my upper arm. Fantastic.

And amid all that I still have a ton of work to get done. I have decided that I am giving my workstation a huge makeover – I bought a new stapler, organizer tray, some pens and highlighters, and I’m going to be removing all the old crap that’s laying around and simplifying. My boss may have an issue with that, but she’s not the one that sits there all the time. The only problem about having a desk at a cat sanctuary is, well, the cats. 1/5 of my desk is taken up by a cat bed. And yes it is necessary – it’s either a cat bed or they lay on my stuff. I can’t tell you how many times one of the cats has layed on my laptop keyboard and fucked something up. Some days I dream of an office where there are no cats. It would be a hell of a lot easier to get paperwork done. They always want to “help” (ie, sit in my papers and take off with my pen).

Plus doing the organization’s website is another one of my charity projects I do in my own time (usually – I prefer doing it at home, in bed, with a cup of hot chocolate in hand). It needs a lot of attention right now… a lot of updates and changes. Of course no one bitches at me, I’m not paid for it and I’m working crazy hours (and only getting paid for 10 a week!). But I think today this will be my project. I feel like working on it. And what’s the alternative, anyways… I sit and obsess about other things? No thanks.

I know I’m skating a fine line between keeping busy and burning myself out. When I’m busy I find myself longing for some downtime… but any time I do have some time to myself it really starts getting to me, I start thinking too much and I look for something to keep my mind occupied. I can’t win for losiing, I guess.

I know I can’t keep up this pace long-term… it’s not meant to be long-term. It’s meant to get me through this wait until I’m securely pregnant. And then when I am pregnant it’s meant to keep me occupied so I don’t spend my entire day freaking out.

The waiting… the waiting is what kills me. I’m good with the doing. I will gladly welcome the daily shots, vaginal ultrasounds, and retrieval surgery – things that people who don’t know generally consider to be the tough things. Those are easy. Those are positive. They give me something active to do, they give me numbers and plans. They give me hope. No, it’s the waiting to cycle that will drive you crazy. Not the little needles in the stomach. One just leaves a physical bruise… the other leaves a heavy mental shadow that “other” people just don’t see.

I am not pregnant.

For a few days there I was really wondering. My period has never been this late – ever. I know I was sick and all, but I’m over a week late, even by my longer post-pregnancy cycle standards. Could it be possible…?

I didn’t want to take a test. For the first time I really understood those people who willingly avoid testing, even when it’s pretty obvious they are late and having symptoms. I understand that fear of the blank white strip, the negative. I really, really didn’t want to see it again… I didn’t want to sit there and wait, holding my breath, hand shaking as I held the test and waited for it to develop… only to be disappointed. Again. I’ve seen far too many negatives in my life, and I’m sick of them. I’m sick of the disappointment, I’m sick of throwing them in the trash month after month.

I was going to test Sunday, but then that fear, that desire to avoid yet another negative, butted in and I said I’d test Tuesday.

Well I spent all Sunday trying desperately to stop thinking about and realized it was futile. And idiotic. By trying to avoid one thing I had brought upon myself something apparently worse. The not knowing, the what-if’s… they’ll drive you insane.

So this morning, bright and early (actually it was dark out) I took a test. And it was, as expected, stark white with one line. Not two. Not even a hint of two. Same as freaking usual. So I’m heading into cycle day 40, definitively not pregnant, and no freakin’ clue what’s going on. (And before you say, “But you could still be pregnant, and it’s too early to tell!” let me point out that the only time we had sex was over 18 days ago. So it would either be obviously positive were I pregnant, or it’s a flippin’ virgin conception.)

I have to admit, I think I’m slightly relieved. That sounds weird, I know. But I have everything set up for a December cycle, I’ve really gotten attached to the idea of a September due date. I have my wisdom teeth surgery next week. I need to do better with my eating and preparing my body. I feel like I need a month here to prepare myself. Of course my hands were shaking when I took the test. Of course I would have screamed and cried in joy if it actually had been positive. But I’m not at all surprized and in a way I feel like I need this respite.

My main concern right now is that without my period I cannot schedule my sonohistogram, and without my sonohistogram I cannot get insurance approval for IVF, and without insurance approval I don’t cycle in December. This is what is upsetting me. So I’m not pregnant. Again. I get that. I’m okay with that. I didn’t expect it anyways. But for fuck’s sake, don’t screw up my plans.

My plan for the moment is to go on the pill when my period comes. This serves dual purposes: it keeps me from what-ifing yet again and driving myself crazy next cycle, and it will shorten my cycle. Possibly doing two cycles of the pill will get me back on track… but of course that will depend on when AF decides to show up. I’m going to call the IVF nurses tomorrow, I think, to ask them what options I have for my cycle besides endlessly waiting, and if taking the BCP is okay.

I am just really in such a state of shock and anger and frustration that my body has decided to pull this stunt on me now. Not that there’s ever a good time for your period to go AWOL, but it’s definitely preferred to happen when I am not planning an IVF cycle in the near future.

When things seem like they are all hitting bottom at the same time, you can only go up, right? Like I mentioned in my GITW post, that’s why I keep moving forward – because it can’t always come up tails.

Today I finally got to see some heads.

Oh, not in a spectular way – I’m not expecting everything to always come up heads. But it was a pretty good day, on the whole.

My morning was spent taking my car to the local Hyundai dealership to get the frame checked out. All I wanted was confirmation that it was a weird big rusted out hole so they could report to corporate and I could then call and insist that they need to cover it. I was already thinking in my head how I could prove to them that it was a defect, not just normal wear. So I think the very last thing I expected today was for their answer to me, “Oh don’t worry about it. We’ll take care of it.” I think I stared at him and laughed a little funny and asked for clarification. Yes, he really did mean they are going to fix my car for free. No fight. No question. No surliness. Just a, “Yep, that’s broken and needs fixing. We ordered the new part. Don’t worry about it.” (And yes, I have it in writing.) Holy. Shit.

Needless to say when I told Den he was extremely giddy, too, and we both came to the same conclusion. I already knew I wanted another Hyundai when this one dies – now we are certain we will be, and purchasing it from this dealer. I have never, ever been so impressed with any customer service, much less from a car company and dealership. I’m going to write them a big letter gushing about how awesome they are.

The middle of my day wasn’t near as fantatsic. In fact, it wasn’t really one of those heads situations, but it wasn’t really a tails either. I had my allergy testing today. It was not a scratch test. This was the kind of test where they inject little bubbles of liquid under your skin on your upper arms. Tiny sub-q needles, so that wasn’t the issue. The issue? 152 injections. I am NOT shitting you. My upper arms look like, as one coworker said today, a quilt. A bubbly, 3-D quilt. Granted most of them faded a lot, but I have a ton of little dried blood and red bubbles all the way down my arms. Atrocious. No short sleeves for me for a while.

What they do during this test is they have the same set of 30 things they test for, each in a vial. They do a group of 30, then wait and record the results. Then they go to a stronger dose of those 30 things, and repeat. (And there are two “control” injections, which is how they get to 152, in case you were doing the math.) So 5 groups of 30 in increasing concentrations.

The first 3 groups weren’t too bad. Little pinpricks – an irritation. And nothing was showing up, either. She was watching the group of different dust allergens, especially the dust mites. It looked like it might swell a little, but didn’t really too much.

The 4th group stung. The 5th I was gripping the chair. “Stung” is not strong enough. Every injection overwhelmed my poor little nerve endings. It was the same needle, so I know it wasn’t the prick that hurt… it was the reaction to the concentration. Hurt like a bitch. I was all, “Well I’m never doing THAT again!!” And yet nothing really blew up huge.

End result was that some things did swell up a little, which means that I am mildly allergic. The dust, dust mites, those were definitely some of them. Oak trees, apparently – more sensitive to that than other trees. Some weeds. (“Do you feel worse when you mow the lawn?” she asked me. “I’ve never cut the lawn,” I replied, “so I haven’t a clue.”) One type of mold that grows on cheese and fruits. And… cats. Yes, I said cats. Do you remember where I work? Cat sanctuary. Hahaha. Yeah. I guess it’s finally gotten to me.

They talked allergy injections, which I’m not against, but I have two main concerns. First, do I want to be doing that when pregnant. I know, it’s probably not going to be contra-indicated. But I’m gunshy now. I don’t want to be doing anything unless it’s strictly necessary. And second, money! It’s one shot a week for the first year… at $20 copay per visit. That’s… a lot of freaking money. I don’t feel that bad. I just have some excess mucous. Not fun… certainly not life-threatening. So I paid more attention to the other things I can do.

There is a good chance the dust is a big problem in my house. I think we’re going to have to do a thorough cleaning of the bedroom, put some covers on the mattress and pillows, and try to dust and vacuum as much as possible. Getting an air purifier wouldn’t be a bad investment either. At work, well, I’m not sure what to do about that. Trying to deep-clean the office would be good. Replacing the old carpet would be fantastic – I know my boss really wants that to be done – but money is the issue there. And it’s not really up to me, either.

The doctor also talked to me about diet. Because my allergies are surfacing as stuffed up sinuses, post-nasal drip and yucky throat he said I need to really seriously cut back on milk, cheese and chocolate, which can all make these symptoms worse by increasing mucous production. I stared at him. I mean, seriously?! That’s my three main food groups. This is bad. This is really bad. What the hell else do I eat if I can’t have milk or cheese? I don’t think I actually eat anything that doesn’t include at least one of those two. (Granted he didn’t say I need to cut it out entirely. But still.)

Plus of course taking something like Zyrtec every day. I know I could have just done that and skipped the [freaking painful] test, but I think it’s good to know what it is I’m fighting against.

The third coin was definitely squarely on the heads side. Upon returning to work after the Pin-Cushion Effect I got a call back from the IVF nurse, responding to the message I left them this morning. I explained that I’m very late, very not pregnant, and that I’m never late. She was really nice, very understanding of how frustrating this is for me. She’s sending me for bloodwork right away (tomorrow morning, in fact), to get my progesterone and of course hCG levels checked. Yeah, yeah, they have to be sure that I am not in fact pregnant. But then they’re going to look to see if my hormones are indicating that I ovulated. She said if I did then we just have to wait it out, AF will come. If not then they’ll be getting me medication to get things started.

So I figure in about a week at most I should finally starting my next cycle. Give or take. I’m feeling relieved that there’s a time limit on this craziness. And when I talk to her tomorrow (if I’m able to catch her call) I’m going to ask her if I can start the birth control pill right away, if that won’t mess anything up. I don’t want to risk another 40 day cycle. I may go insane.

All in all, a pretty good day.

Over the past 3 years I have beccome very good at reading my body. I stopped charting, but even still I could tell when my body ovulated. I could tell when AF was imminent. There were twinges and feelings and I just could tell.

So when my body was giving me all sorts of fucked up signals this month I was just so frustrated. I was sick, I figured that added into it – even though I was sick during what should have been my luteal phase. So there I was, my cycle longer than ever before, and I was having twinges. Definitely not AF twinges. That’s when I really started thinking I was pregnant. I mean, I know my body. I know those weren’t the start of AF cramps. Those were something else. And I hesitatingly, secretly harbored the hope that it was something snuggling in. That it was a pregnancy symptom.

Well I got my blood test done today, and a voicemail with the results. I had the wrong twinges in mind. I just ovulated. My progesterone was high, definitely ovulatory – and so was my estradiol, suggesting that it was recent. (Oh, and for all you die-hards: the beta was negative.)

I think a, “Well, fuck,” and a, “DUH” crossed my mind simultaneously. When I think about it now my body was definitely telling me. I’ve had EW CM all the way through from when I was supposed to/thought I ovulated. I attributed it at first to being sick, and then thinking maybe it meant pregnancy. But no, Occam’s Razor. What’s the simplist explanation to EWCM that continues? Still haven’t ovulated yet. And all those twinges and weird feelings? Yup… ovulation. At least I know exactly what day: Sunday.

The “fuck” because, ovulation on cycle day 38?! What the fuck?! And now, this means another week and a half. OMFG. A 50+ day cycle. Right before IVF. I want to scream. Honestly I expected to hear one of two answers today: “Oh, you already ovulated and AF will show up tomorrow,” or, “Anovulatory, sorry, here’s some meds. AF will be here in a couple of days.” Not another nearly two weeks!!

The good side of things is that the nurse, unprompted by me, said that I could do a short cycle of birth control pills to get me back on schedule for a December cycle. The bad part of that? She added, “If you wanted to get a cycle in before the end of the year when the clinic closes.” (Emphasis mine.) Oh yeeaaahhhh, I forgot about that. The clinic closes down at some point during the year…. sometime around new year’s. Umm. Yeah. I do want to get a cycle in before then.

Oh, and we have zero chance of pregnancy this time because no sex, since I was waiting for AF.

I guess I shouldn’t be too surprized by all of this… the depression has been creeping up a little bit, starting a new job, trying to get a million and one things done… it’s not too terribly surprizing my body took a hike on the long road. But still. I am surprized. My body’s never pulled a stunt like this before.

Hopefully the pill can get everything back on schedule with me no worse for wear. I’ll have to spend some time with my calendar tonight, re-plotting things out. I think it should be okay. And at least this means the sono won’t have to be done the same week as my wisdom teeth extraction. That was not a nice prospect.

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Update: Okay, I crunched the numbers in my calculator. A “short cycle” before my next cycle is no longer going to work. By the time my period finally shows we’re looking at approximately 5 weeks before my stims cycle needs to start (approx Dec 7) in order to get retrieval (approx Dec 17) and transfer (approx Dec 20) before Christmas. So actually this new schedule is simpler: I start BCP when I get my period, and stay on it for an extra week (4+ weeks of active pills), and go off it when we need AF to start for the stims cycle.

I’m obviously going to talk this over with the nurse tomorrow (or, well, leave her a detailed voice message and see what her take is, since I’ll be at work and not allowed to answer my cell). We have to make SURE I get that sono done right away to get insurance approval soon as I get insurance coverage so I can get my lupron ordered. It’ll be a little crunchy. But we can do it.

By the way, did I mention how happy I was to talk to the IVF nurses again? I love them! They make me very happy I returned to the same clinic. They took such wonderful care of me the last two cycles, they’re very helpful and friendly and understanding. Talking to them was kind of like a warm blanket of reassurance and familiarity. I’m walking on old ground, now. I know this path. I know this journey. (Did I mention that in the voicemail the nurse explained what my numbers were? Progesterone and Estradiol levels both. I don’t know if it’s still noted in my chart that I like numbers or if she just did it anyways – but either way I love it!)

This is all starting so soon!! I’m starting to get excited now! I’m scared to get excited, in case this falls through, but right now we’re still on track. Eee!

Today I went to buy a mattress and pillow cover. From being present as the allergy screening was being done I know that the one allergen that was flaring up before the others (at a lower dosage) was dust mites. I am mildly allergic to cat dander and some other random things, as well, but the dust and dust mites seemed to me to be the strongest ones. And it’s really no wonder… with all the fur and dust flying in our house, I feel like I can never get out from under it.

I came home and stripped the bed, I’m washing all the linens on “sanitize” (super hot). Then I tackled The Hole. The Hole is that spot between the mattress and the wall where everything “disappears”. It has existed since I was born, I think. Give me a bed and a wall – distance is no obstacle, could be 2 inches or 2 feet – and things will disappear down there. (At this point I think I’ve lost several forks, books, many socks and underwear, and perhaps a car or two. Sadly I have never recovered them.) This is why, since I was 13 years old and a new mattress was purchased for me (to replace the “cute” white metal twin-size daybed I once had) my mattress has lived directly on the floor: less room for things to go missing. So I grabbed a big ass garbage bag and set to chucking the little bits of paper and fur that found its way into The Hole and rescued some objects I don’t even remember owning, much less losing.

Oh the dust. It wasn’t really like a dust storm or anything – had you walked in you just would have seen me struggling to get free from the vacuum cleaner hose (WHY is that so difficult for me?) and chucking things in a bag. But OH did it sting. My eyes! They turned red and watered so badly I couldn’t see. I stumbled out to my husband and he stared at me and blinked. “Wow,” he said, “You’re really allergic to dust.”

So my next step is to buy a hypo-allergenic comforter and a nice linen duvet cover that can be washed frequently. A second set of bedsheets wouldn’t be bad, either. I also really want to get an air purifier for the bedroom. Plus, considering the cat allergy and the fact that the cats are Assholes Who Scratch The Mattress, I think I will henceforth be banning cats from the bedroom. I may even ban my dog from the bed, but that will be a tough one for me. She’s so content nestled up with me while I’m writing. We also will have to take a hard look at the dog crates being in the bedroom. Really there’s nowhere else for them to go. But the fur the builds up around them is horrific, truly horrific. At the very least we’re going to have to clean much much more thoroughly, much more frequently.

I have visions of one day living in a dust-free bedroom (at least give me the bedroom). Wouldn’t that be devine.

::

I spoke with the IVF nurse again today. She’s ordered the birth control pills so I can pick them up anytime now, all set to start them on CD1. That’s the good news.

The bad news is that, in response to my tentatively proposed cycle schedule, she said that in order to get on their schedule for December before they close for the holidays I have to start stims by the weekend of November 29th. That’s over a week before I was expecting to start. So it WILL be a short BCP cycle. And not only do we have my body to depend on, but the more pressing concern for me is that I don’t get insurance coverage for IVF until November 16. We should have the sono done prior to that, but I need to get pre-approval for the IVF from the insurance company and get the meds ordered in time to start lupron, which I would have to start a week before stims. See what I’m saying. We have about a 3 day window between me getting insurance and me starting lupron. Fuck.

BUT! But but but. I look up lupron kits and we can buy one for under $200. So that’s what we’re going to do. If something delays insurance covering the meds, then we’ll order the lupron and move forward from there. We should definitely be able to start stims by the 29th.

She also mentioned overlapping BCP and stims, though to be honest the idea of changing protocol at all freaks me out. We’re making the one little change that will hopefully improve things slightly, but I don’t want to go mucking about with something that mostly worked and had a good outcome.

So the cycle is still on. I’m biting my nails. (Figuratively – I never bite my nails, yuck.)

And, going by a Nov 29th start to stims (which is unlikely, since we would want to aim to start BEFORE then just so nothing goes awry!), and assuming I stim for the same amount of days as I did my other IVF cycles, I’d have a Sept 1 due date. My birthday is Sept 3. Awesome.

I have written before about how my body no longer handles my favorite alchohol beverages the way it used to. I have not been drinking much in the past several months. But last night was a party, and last night I had several drinks.

This morning I had to be at work at 8am.

Not what I should call a good combination. I didn’t feel very well this morning. I wasn’t like throwing up or anything, no headache… just a really upset stomach. And I was really, really tired.

I’ve been feeling exceedingly antisocial for the past few weeks. I work, I sleep, and I don’t have a whole lot of interest in anything else. Every week is just another hurdle to get closer to my goals. I put my head down and just keep going. Every week my goal is set on Sunday, the last day of the week… and then when Sunday comes I feel disoriented and without purpose for the day. Then I drive headlong into another week. The time goes faster this way.

The party last night was a costume party. Most years I’ve made my own costumes for these sorts of things, but this year I had no energy or inclination to do so. In the costume store I poked around at the different packages of pre-made outfits “one size fits some.” Most were too cutesie. The maid. The sexy devil. Too chirpy, too upbeat. I knew what I felt, but I had no idea what I was looking for – until I found it.

A Fallen Angel. Black dress, black wings, black halo askew. Fishnet stockings ripped, like I’d just crawled through hell. I painted my fingernails black. I smudged mascara around my eyes as if I’d been crying for days.

For most halloween is a time to dress up as a character, to play as someone else. But last night I dressed up as me.

What once was high, now has fallen. What once was joy, now is sorrow. What once was light, now is dark.

Last year I went to the halloween party pregnant. This year I went with empty arms.

One of the things that has been very important to me is including my first dog, Oreo, in my major life moments. When I moved away she stayed with my parents, but she was my first dog, my first baby, and will forever remain that way. She could not attend our wedding ceremony, here in MA, but when we held a party in Canada she was present. I got some fabulous photos of me in my wedding dress with her.

So as time ticked by when we were trying to get pregnant, it worried me. I wanted my child to get to meet her, to get photos with her, before she passed on. She’s not young anymore, and as the years passed with no pregnancy I really thought my chance was slipping away.

When I got pregnant she was still doing really well, and I was thrilled! Maybe time wasn’t too short, after all. We planned a trip after the baby was born, to finally get that picture. I was still nervous, though, nervous that something would happen to Oreo.

But instead my child died.

We actually went to visit last Christmas, but looking through the photos I realize I have none of me with Oreo… none with Devin with Oreo. It was a sad Christmas, saying goodbye to Tessa (the other dog), who was dying of cancer. I do have photos of Oreo, just none with me and her together. I didn’t realize time was so short. No one thought such a tragedy was right around the corner.

Oreo is still alive at over 13 years old, still doing well. I wonder if she will hold on long enough to see my next child. I don’t know if we will have another chance.

I live in fear of a phone call.

A week after her birth, June of 1995

Christmas, 1996

My high school graduation, 2000

1st anniversary party, summer 2006