There's always a weird window of time before my period when I'm just about to indulge in some magical thinking. I try to manage my expectations, but it's hard. I am persistently, irrationally, maddeningly hopeful.

You can yearn for children and still feel ambivalent about motherhood. Especially in this awful, pre? or actual? apocalyptic time.

//

I met the husband eleven years ago today, at a music festival on the other side of the country.

Dad also died on this day, four years ago. My computer reminded me of the time: 10:30 PM PST.

I will turn 44 on Monday.

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