several weeks before my last birthday, i told my husband that i thought 33 was going to be a really good year.

shortly thereafter, my dad was diagnosed with cancer. i spent the following months trying to save him, with no luck. he died very quickly. then came months of dealing with the emotional fallout. and the financial fallout and the stress of selling his house, his prized motorcyle being stolen, a very stressful and long interview process for a new job, time and money-consuming infertility treatment, intense medication, and recently, a miscarriage.

overall, the year has pretty much sucked balls. which, for anyone who might be confused, and contrary to what most guys think, means it was very very bad.

today is the last day that i am 33. it was 33's last change to redeem itself.

today i found out i'm pregnant.

the doctor said things look better this time around than they did last time. i'll still need to watch my hormone levels and cross my fingers that this one sticks. and, after last month, i'm really scared to be happy.

but i tell you what. for now i'm letting myself celebrate. and 33 really came through in the end.