I have moved past the disappointment of losing a pregnancy. I have cared for Elliot enough that he is now beginning to show some signs of healing, the playful happy boy he normally is. And I have accepted the fact that many files that I worked hard on are gone forever and I must cobble together what of them I can, from memory, and perhaps even better than before. It is easy, in times like these, to become mired in the sadness and self-pity. Sometimes, I revel in it because it is a different emotion from the day to day, mundane sameness that is usual. I embrace the ups and downs, to feel, to know I’m alive. It cannot all be roses and rainbows. But I believe that when life takes these downturns, the upswing will soon follow and life will once again be good, if not just plain status quo.

I allowed myself revel a bit too much in my downtrodden state: I drank more than I should have, probably admitted things about myself that no one should really know. It was a low point that I sunk to in order to pull myself together and back up, by the bootstraps.

And I woke up this morning with a headache and trying to convince myself not to regret.

I spent the afternoon cleaning my office and working on some small tasks; the sparse desk brings me a great deal of satisfaction, playing to the neat freak that lives inside me. I love to see it nice, neat, organized and free of clutter, which it is littered with day in and day out. I can go home today feeling clean.

So it’s a new beginning. We’ll keep trying to conceive another child and I can recreate as many files as I can remember. The world is not over. The world goes on, ever so brazenly plodding along. There is, after all, no use in wallowing in stuff like this. We are here but a short time; I should not waste my efforts on feeling sad. And besides, it’s Friday and the semester is DONE.

Peace out like a girl scout, readers. Enjoy your respective weekends.