If

Had Zach and I gone through the traditional version of in vitro fertilization—the kind in which the resulting embryos are transferred to the biological mother's womb rather than to cold storage—and had that version been a success, our due date would have been exactly a month ago.

After all we've been through this year, it's hard to imagine an alternate reality in which 2006 revolved around pregnancy and first-time parenthood instead of illness and treatment and recovery. So, so much would have been so, so different.

In that alternate reality, I'd have finished school—and my first trimester—last May. And we'd have woken up this morning not only in the same bed in the same city, but as the proud parents of a month-old baby (or two!).

We'd have gone through our first pregnancy while Zach's brother and his wife went through their third, and the new cousins would have met for the first time a little over a week ago at Thanksgiving.

We'd have spent months figuring out how to retrofit our apartment and our lives so that we'd be ready—or think we'd be ready—to share both.

We'd have embarked on a seemingly endless quest for the absolute perfect baby names.

We'd have read all the books and taken the classes and talked to everyone we knew and still wondered how we would ever figure it all out.

We'd have finished the house and gone up to Phoenicia for one last "just us" weekend away.

We'd have cherished every moment of every day.

And we'd have kept a baby blog and shared it with all of you.