When You Chase Two Moments, But Can't Get There

I'm probably just fucking cursed, honestly.

About a year ago, I wrote something on how you measure a year, like in the Rent song.

What I was getting at in that post — probably poorly — is that a lot of people associate a year with 2–3 specific memories, i.e. “I met this person,” or “I had a kid,” or “I switched to this job.” When you get pretty deep into infertility bullshit, where I’ve been for 3…