The crying day

Every month I cry

for a day

after I realize I'm not pregnant.

Defined by a lack.

It's expected at this point -

(something's surely broken?)

so I don't know why I let myself hope.

Yet every month there's a window

cracked open

letting light in for a day or two

then closed.

It's not desperation

or agony.

Not urgent.

We could live a long happy life just the three of us

I can see it some days 

unfolding like that.

But every month

I still cry until my makeup is gone and my nose is stuffy

and Casey is always calm

on the crying day.

a moment to grieve.

Then back to dishes

laundry

eating three hard-boiled eggs in a row

standing up at the counter.

Tomorrow I will be grateful for what I have

amazed at my life

completely content with my 3-year-old boy

gulping salt water in the bay

and falling asleep next to me every night.

Tomorrow I will remember that people wait years

or never get the chance at all

and look how lucky we got.

How did we get so lucky?

Today 

I will cry a little more.