A year ago today I found out that I was pregnant with the twins. Those two lines (on a test I was only taking because I was convinced I had cancer or some terrible disease causing what I thought was mid-cycle spotting) marked the start of a six-week nightmare. Joy. Fleeting hope. Despair. Resignation. Fear. Sorrow.
Four years ago today I found out that I was pregnant with Thomas. Those two lines (on a test I took because I knew I was pregnant) marked the start of the sweetest 8 months of my life. Until that too ended in unthinkable sorrow.
Today passed quietly and uneventfully. I didn't pee on any sticks because this July 11th there was no need to.
The triggers are everywhere and the ghosts of both happier times and desperate times loom large. The smell of summer skin, garden blossoms, the hot pavement after it rains - they all remind me of being pregnant and not being pregnant.
Summer isn't always all it's cracked up to be.