We are currently on vacation. We vacation a little differently than most people. We don’t do exotic getaways or room service…but it’s vacation none-the-less. It’s time spent away from work and the usual stresses. Time spent as husband & wife where we can reconnect, charge our batteries and stop hustling from one obligation to another.
We have a large and interchangeable group of friends we travel with to various places on annual trips to do some camping (or “glamping” as it would better described in our 35 foot fifth wheel RV with all the amenities). This particular trip has been spent on the Oregon coast, eating all sorts of yummy seafood, campfires, lots of dune riding in our side-by-side UTV and quite a bit of reading, napping and relaxing.
Back home, the temperatures have been over the 100* mark. Here, it’s been downright chilly. I despise the hot summer months and welcome the cool, coastal weather with open, albeit bundled, arms.
There is this one, small hiccup. Everyone else here is on a FAMILY vacation. With kids upon kids upon kids. This group is primarily made up of young boys. 9 to be exact. Only 3 girls. Of the dozen, the age range is from 2 1/2 to 14 years old. I can hear a group of them now, at the campfire, giggling.
My husband and I brought our dogs.
I suppose I could focus on how we might be getting to do a lot more relaxing than our friends who brought all these kiddos. I suppose I could be happy that the cost of our trip isn’t as great since we don’t have to buy souvenirs, extra ice creams or clam chowders. But if you’ve read any of my previous entries, then you likely know I won’t say that no children = a better or more relaxing vacation.
When I see the smudged face and dirty little hands on a 4 year old blazing by on a bicycle, an empty water bottle shoved under the rear fender for the cackling noise effect, the wonder & excitement in a 9 year olds face after searching, finding and catching a crab on the rocks and the pride in showing it off in a water bowl to everyone in camp….when I see one of the Dads patiently teaching his son how to better maneuver a steep hill on his motorcycle and the Daddy’s pride when the boy makes the hill, or when I see all the children run to Grandma J’s RV for her famous deserts…and watch her love on each of them before they run off with the goodies….I do not feel relaxed. I do not feel the everyday stresses going away. I feel sad. Again. I feel robbed. Again.
I see my husband watching these kids make these lifelong memories and I watch his heart break. I can see the longing in his eyes and I can see his shoulders drop the moment the realization smacks him in the face that this will never be a family tradition for us as it is for them.
Even on vacation, infertility is there. Even on vacation, it is painful. It is ALWAYS there.