Day 2064: Darling Dear and I have an agreement. Every time that time of the month rolls around for negative pregnancy tests and crime scenes in pants, he buys me a pack of chocolate donuts. This pack of delicious, chocolate covered, buttermilk donuts has become a monthly staple in our home since we started our, what seems to be, tricky battle of producing an offspring.
Months have come and gone and boxes of donuts have been consumed to mask my feelings of disappointment and fulfill my hunger for something more. Try as the little donuts might, it just can't completely mask my void.
And now with Darling Dear gone until who knows when, I see months and months stretched out in front of me, littered with empty donut boxes and an empty uterus. A friend once told me that if the Navy wanted you to have children, they would have issued them, and I am starting to understand.
