I missed the medications that kept my biorhythms on track before I got pregnant; even after Dori was weaned, anything that made it hard to wake up off-cycle would probably be a bad idea for a while. At least old-fashioned sertraline was still okay—I might lie in the dark with my wheels spinning, but the wheels in question were mostly logistical and ethical quandaries rather than rehashes of all my imagined worst mistakes. Right now, for example, my brain was convinced that I’d missed something in the flood data. It was not, I realized, going to let go until I checked.
