I don't get out much.

You will easily notice from the way these sexy legs of mine perfectly match the white background on your pc screen.

Even worse, I don't get out of the bed room much. Instead, I sit cross-legged on my bed all night on end-my laptop perched on the tray before me-editing content, typing up posts, reading other's posts, creating marketing plans, and connecting with other young entrepreneurs on Twitter.

I don't do morning walks. I do not do evenings in the bar. Sometimes, I don't even do lunch.

At no more your day, my knees are so stiff I'm able to barely walk. The trade-off for not wearing a bra (or pants) all day long?

My husband is a whole lot worse.

Almost last year, we went to a couples therapist. Each week, we covered exactly the same ground. We weren't seeing an adequate amount of one another. We weren't spending quality time together. We weren't communicating or sharing new experiences with one another.

Naturally, I made a decision to fix things by working even harder.

Early on in our relationship, we'd taken a vacation to Bay area, and spent one blissful day in Napa Valley. We'd hopped from winery to winery, sniffing for that scent of grapefruit, swirling glass after glass, and love Sauvignon Blancs. Wine became a mutual passion of ours, partially since it was delicious, partially because it eased my social anxiety, and partially since it was possible to get completely wasted on the stuff and still look classy holding the delicate stemware during social gatherings. So long as you weren't double fisting.

So I pitched Inside Jersey with an idea for The Ultimate NJ Wine Tour, and they were all for it. My spouse and i then proceeded to go to all 33 Nj wineries registered with the NJ Wine Growers' Association, in addition to wine shops, bars and restaurants. We even took part in a wine-making class. We traveled across New Jersey together, covering every single wine spot in three, frenetic months. We shared portions of pinot noir on outdoor patios. We crushed grapes together. On one marathon of the day, we even visited seven wineries. At the sixth one, they were hesitant to serve us. Possibly since i had used my husband's wine glass as a dump bucket at the previous five wineries, and he was obviously blitzed.

We spent every single weekend together over the course of those three months, immersed within this shared interest of ours, also it revitalized our marriage.

Nowadays, we still benefit from the occasional tasting and, most weeks, we pour each other some wine and cook together. It is a method to keep connected, even though we're still hopeless workaholics.

This will all end after i conceive. Actually, that one book I'm reading-Eating for Pregnancy-cautions against drinking (even in the form of cough syrup) when you're still just trying to get pregnant. Because, well, You may be PREGNANT ALREADY AND JUST NOT Realize it, YOU SELFISH ALCOHOLIC! This book scares me, and that i can seem to be it looking at me disapprovingly from the spot on the shelf because, not only do I have the sporadic drink, however i also don't have enough iron within my diet, or folic acid, or omega-3s, and dear lord I don't know what omega-3s are!

And even though there are lots of stories out there how the sporadic drink won't hurt your unborn child, I'd prefer not to feel the judgmental glare of paranoid mothers everywhere burning a hole through my cheap maternity-wear.

So will we fall back to our disconnected, pre-wine snob ways after i get pregnant?

I have my fingers crossed that people won't. In the end, there will be a nursery to decorate. Supplies to buy. An ever-expanding stomach in my husband to make fun of. I will be able to experience the joy of lolling about on the couch, demanding Fla-Vor-Ice and shrimp fajitas because, well, I've cravings. There will be the shared anticipation of a child, for god's sakes. And should not that be sufficient?