An unexpected surprise…

Back in November of 2015, I spent the better part of a weekend believing I was pregnant. It was an exceptionally refreshing experience, one that I’ve not had for a number of years now.

It was a fantastic weekend to begin with. Halloween was celebrated in conjunction with seasonally low temperatures AND daylight savings time. That, my friends, is every parent’s dream! We also enjoyed dinners with family, played board games, built LEGO, watched a movie, walked our pup at an off-leash park for the very first time (hilarious!), and played many rowdy games of soccer in our back yard.

On Saturday, I checked my app when it occurred to me that I was late, and realized that my cycle had endured for 36 days. I was convinced that my cycle had not EVER exceeded 35 days, though my husband seemed to recall a 38 day cycle. I am willing to admit that he was likely correct, what with his brain being the vault that it is, but at the time I was keen to forget.

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Six months and counting… An update of sorts.

We’ve been in our new home for nearly six months. We took possession on St. Patrick’s day, which in these parts, also happens to mark the Spring Equalday, a time of rebirth and celebration. There was much significance in this for me.

In April, we went on vacation with my brother, his wife and his youngest son. Disney World! Universal Studios! We had an amazing time forging memories that I will treasure always.

In May, we brought home a puppy, a Bernedoodle, and we named him after Captain America’s best friend, Bucky. Which later became Bucky Sneakers. Or, Bucky Boo. Or, Bucks. Or, Buck-man. Whichever seems most appropriate really.

I love our Bucky! He is my constant companion and I cannot fully explain how grateful I am to have that. He is my giant, furry baby. I am shameless in my devotion to him. He is not just a dog.

He’s my very best pal. Here’s why:

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Now.

I’ve been meaning to write about my second and third miscarriages for a very long time. (If you’d care to read about the first, you can do so here.)  I start… and then stop… and then I start and stop some more.  The problem seems to be with finishing; primarily that it never happens.

So, in a bid to practice what I preach – “Done is better than perfect!” – I am going to finally accomplish what I have set out to do.

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