Halloween has long been my favorite holiday. If I associate myself with any religion, it’s pagan, and for a number of years in my twenties considered myself Wiccan. So it’s natural, then, that I would appreciate this day–Samhain–for its spiritual significance. I have to admit, though, I’m a lapsed Wiccan, and I really enjoy Halloween these days for the pumpkin-carving and seeing kids in costumes. Who can resist a little one-year-old in a lion suit–or a five-year-old girl dressed up like a witch? We love the handing out of candy, and we put out spooky decorations for the kids. I carve a few pumpkins. It’s great. In recent years, though, J and I find that Halloween makes our babyaches unbearably strong (what doesn’t though, really?).
So how appropriate that today, on Halloween, our sperm (well, technically Mr. G’s sperm) will be placed in a box and sent on its way toward us. And how ironic that the good little pagans will be inseminating tomorrow on All Saints Day. Ha! Anyone know the patron saint of artificial insemination? Of lesbians getting pregnant? No?
Of course, all of this hinges on Mr. G checking his messages in a timely manner, but I do believe that after last month’s shipping fiascos and his resulting guilt he will follow through this time.