A glass of wine

Micah's been gone for a couple of days. He's in California for work. So the other evening, I poured myself a glass of wine (a very cheap glass of wine, let's not get too excited) and sat down in from of the TV with a plate of sushi. It was the first day of my period. Yeah, I was sulking. I give myself one day a month to feel sorry for myself. I cry, swear, curse. It is my one to scream that life is not fair. Of course most of this is done in my car or in the bathroom before Micah gets home. He knows that this whole process is hard on me, but I don't like to show how upset I am about it in front of him. I know that we are in this together. We really can't do it without each other, but I know, some how, deep down inside that the reason why, after ten months, we are not pregnant is my fault. I'm almost positive that our lack of baby is due to the fact that I have Crohn's disease and that I had a major bowel resection nearly seven years ago.I know he won't ever blame me, but I also don't want to let him down.

I think all of this during that one day of sulking. All the what ifs run through my head and I get caught up in it. I let it swirl around until I can't think about it any more. Then I wipe my the tears off my cheeks, blow my nose and have a glass of wine. There is always next month...