I tell myself that it's just a little bit of spotting

A teeny bit of unsustained bleeding

Nothing more

But it's much more than that

It's almost like we're trying for a pregnancy

Again

And again and again

A bit closer each time

We keep trying

But you can't get me pregnant

In the short term, it's a relief

But I can't say wasn't a little bit crestfallen—

The way you said it, you seemed disappointed too

I wonder if it crosses your mind

Every once in a while

With every day that goes by

You're deeper into me

I think about you and I

And I only see us closer

I see a home with you

The tubes on the irrational hope of being a mother

Have been cut and tied

There's still some warm, relaxed feeling

That comes from thoughts devoted to the idea

But now it's without substance