One more forcefully extended middle finger from Mother Nature and we'll call this cycle done.

Despite a temperature drop and a rash of unmistakably pre-menstrual symptoms, my period just did not come once I had reached my typical luteal phase length. And then it did not come again the next day, or the next, which of course led to my fantasizing about drafting a retraction of my "I'm not pregnant" announcement and wondering how to hold myself morally accountable for some "it's the beginning of a new cycle and I'm going to make the most of it, damn it" behavior (I'll admit to the dental x-rays, but there might have been more ...).

Then I went to visit my sister & co. Given some unexpected circumstances that had kept us from getting together before then, it would be the first time I'd see the baby. I arrived at their house. Baby was at grandma's while my sister worked from home; we'd have to go over to pick her up. I went to the bathroom before we left and looked down at the paper. Red.

Of course it was.

I met my niece for the first time mere minutes into the brightly definitive end to yet another failed cycle.

***

She's cute, happy, smiling, thriving. Our time together brought me so much happiness that when I paused for a moment to think of my own sorrow, the shock of it in contrast almost brought me to my knees.