Fourteen weeks later.

I don't know what to do here.  Seriously, the indignation has faded, all I feel now is humbled.  Well, that's not true-- I think I have Infertility PTSD, constantly waiting for the shoe to drop and questioning everything from my worth to have my "finally" happen to grief over time lost.  So, where does that … Continue reading Fourteen weeks later.


An Edvard Munch day.

** I preface this long ass post by noting that, despite how it sounds in the following novella, Partner and I have NOT yet made any decisions one way or another about trying advanced reproductive options. ** Today was not my best day ever.  I did a damn good job of being a pretty awful … Continue reading An Edvard Munch day.