By Natasha Julius
On September 17, 2014, I went for a routine 8-week prenatal check-up. It was the only routine thing I would do for more than two months.
During this time, I e-mailed a small group of people. Some were aware of the pregnancy, some had plans with me that would need to be broken, and still others simply asked after my health on the wrong day. This is the 10th of 11 such messages. They have been edited to remove identifying information and inside references, but otherwise remain largely unchanged.
November 16, 2014
Dear Friends,
Some of you know about this already, but back in August, just as I was beginning to wonder if I might be pregnant, my cat died. She’d been sick most of the summer and I’d been spending my free time nursing her; sticking drops in her ears, feeding her special food, giving her shots of Pedialyte in one of those baby syringes used to dose kids’ ibuprofen. She rallied for a while and we decided to take a little weekend getaway. When we returned, there was Steve the cat, dead on the floor by our back deck.
It was the first time my daughter had seen me cry. She earnestly asked me, with more than a little worry in her eyes, “Mommy, what’s wrong with your face?”
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Posted on February 3, 2015