D was the first to take off tonight, heading for an epic all boys trick or treating and sleepover extravaganza.

He went as a wizard, after what seemed like hours of deliberation last week at the costume store. He’s quite pleased with himself here….

Here is D’s most wonderful friend, H, who is going as a hobbit. His furry feet are inside the house but…wow…perfect costume.

Alert readers may remember H as the kid who went with us to Texas last summer and also as the kid who inaugurated our new condo with a vomiting fit right after we moved in. Yep. That’s the one. Love him.

As the sun began to set, we tried to take Baby J for his first round of trick or treating. In the beginning, I wasn’t sure that it was going to work. It seemed like kind of a disaster because a) he wouldn’t wear the dinosaur head and b) he was kind of fussy.

M was unbelievably patient with him until he got the hang of things.

By this house, below, M thought Baby J was ready for prime time, so she stood back and let him ring the doorbell.

The door opened and Baby J stood there….

and got a little flustered….

and Jeff staged whispered….

Do you remember what to say?

At that, Baby J stepped forward with his pumpkin bucket and announced….


It brought down the house. It did. The cuteness *overwhelms* me sometimes.

After a few warm-up houses, we headed over to our favorite Halloween party at our friend R & B’s house.

There was a brick pizza oven set up in the driveway for the guests–yum!

After many, many, many slices of pizza, pigs in blankets, mini KitKat bars, Halloween cookies, chips, and chocolate covered marshmallows, Baby J was persuaded to put on the dinosaur head for a picture.


Libations were flowing, candles were lit, pumpkins were glowing, and tonight was unusually warm and clear for a Seattle Halloween. It was simply perfect weather, not too cool, not too breezy, perfectly dry.

The streets were teeming with little skunks, monkeys, dinosaurs, bumble bees, princesses, ninjas, Harry Potters, even a family of “Spanish Conquistadors” on real horses. Yes. It’s that kind of neighborhood, which is why we don’t live there.

Anyhoo… it was still super nice to be invited. Also, it’s the kind of neighborhood where people give the full size candy bars. Niiiiice.

We ate and drank ourselves silly.

The pizza was delicious.

Baby J got to run around and be doted upon by many. Do you remember super babysitter H from the Africa trip? Well, this is her dad hugging J.

Love the glazed expression on J’s face. The sugar was fully entering the bloodstream at this point.

We could have stayed for many more hours but I am not yet 100%, so we called it an early night.

The children ate candy while we drove home and the older ones are now continuing to stuff themselves with a full variety from the haul tonight. It’s a one night only thing for us.

And so, I wish you literal sweet dreams,



Click to enlarge…and laugh your ass off. Africa is my favorite part of this….


It didn’t last long.

On Wednesday morning, I had bundled kids off to school, eaten a nutritious breakfast with my favorite two year old, bathed-powdered-diapered-tickled-dressed-brushed-nuzzled-jacketed Baby J and bundled him off to the park with a babysitter, and I was walking down the hallway when it felt like a giant gust — maybe more like a tsunami — of wind picked me up off my feet and slammed me against a wall.

Then another wave of pain hit me so hard that it knocked the breath out of me. And they kept coming. And coming. And coming.

By the time I was able to stagger to the bathroom, one of my socks was soaked with blood and I looked down and thought


and then

that’s that.

And it was.

I just sat there for a while, alone, and watched the buses run up and down the street and people get on and off and rain fall on the rooftop next to our building.

I didn’t think about much.

After what seemed like a long time, I called Jeff.

After that was much drama and fake hope and please still take your medicine because just last week we had a patient who had just lost a twin and she’s still got a healthy pregnancy and when can we see the doctor and how long until we get the results of the bloodwork and blah blah blah.

I wasn’t paying much attention because sometimes you already know the answers before the questions are even asked.

I was in this very deep, quiet still place, almost like being alone, and when people were talking to me, it was like they were talking to someone else, like they were very far away from me. In my still quiet place, I was thinking

I was so close….I was so incredibly close.

And then I burrowed down even deeper into my stillness, all though the nights and all through the early mornings and through the afternoons when Baby J is asleep and the apartment is quiet and the sound of the dryer makes this nice reassuring sort of blowing hummmmm and especially in the car when you can put your head against the window of the car and watch the leaves swirl around as you drive along and I thought

I am not done.

My birthday is Monday. I’ll be thirty-nine, an age when fertility is pretty much over but until Dr. Schoolcraft looks me in the eye and says there is nothing else this practice and this lab can do for you, I am not done.