things when I lose a pregnancy is calling my parents and telling them, because I know it's hard on them, too. And they've had so much pain and hurt in the last several years, and I always hate adding to it. But they have always taken it so well, and are always so sweet about it.

So the Jarvis Cocker concert back in April was a really, really good concert. But I ended up in the ER yesterday, and the results from the concert haven't ended up so well. But it's easier this time. For one thing, I have my two kids whereas before, after seeing the ultrasound that bore the bad news, there were no little bodies to go home to and hold on to. It doesn't make it all better, not 100%, but it really does help. The old arms don't feel so empty afterwards.

I'm not sure if I'll write more about this here or not. We will have to see. But it is possible -- when I had the miscarriage before Avi, at about 12-13 weeks, my medical anthropology adviser instructed me to write about it in a journal. As a medical anthropologist dealing with women's health issues I was sure to run into the situation again, and my own experiences would certainly help me in that case. Also, Sue has recently reminded me, once again, of the importance of women chronicling their lives.

So, if you are squeamish and have little interest in the reproductive lives of women, you may want to skip the posts for a little while. I'll let you know when I write about something mundane again, like cleaning toilets.