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Monday Blues

I got my period. I'm not gonna lie — I'm disappointed. I know, I know, it was unlikely I'd get pregnant on our first try. But hey, it was a possibility. We did have sex a million times last month — we gave those sperm plenty of chances.

Rationally, I know that getting pregnant can take a long time, but I didn't realize until after I got my period this morning just how much I was hoping I was pregnant. I mean, each time I took my prenatal vitamins over the last two weeks, I really thought, maybe this is helping a fetus right now. Turns out it was just more nutrients for me.

But I had every warning I was getting my period: I was depressed and on the verge of tears on Friday (classic PMS for me); my boobs were sore (also PMS for me, but I was hoping it was pregnancy boob soreness and not period boob soreness); and I was eating like a maniac (again, typical PMS for me).

So it shouldn't have been a surprise that I got my period. And it wasn't. But I'm still sad.

My husband isn't nearly as disappointed as I am.

"I got my period," I told him this morning, as I walked out of the bathroom.

"We'll get 'em next time, Babe," he said, looking up briefly from his New York Times.

I know he didn't mean to sound as though we'd only just lost an intramural volleyball game, so I gave him another chance to react.

"You're not thinking anything else right now?"

He put the paper down and looked up at me.

"Well, yeah, I'm disappointed. But we knew it would probably take a while."

"Really, you're disappointed, too?"

"Sure. It also makes me wonder a little bit why it didn't work, but most people don't get pregnant their first try. So we'll just try again. It'll be okay."

I sat down next to him and put my head on his chest. He put his arms around me. We sat there for a little while like that, and eventually I got up to go to the gym.

"Let's have sushi for dinner," I said on my way out the door.

If I'm not pregnant, I might as well live it up.