Unplugged

Though my husband would emphatically disagree, I have to say how lovely it is to exist in a place without Cell phones or News reports. To spend your day without knowing what time it is, only identifying it in segments related to meals and shut eye. It must be how my dog feels every day.

I'm sorry to say I don't have any pictures for you. I fully intended to spend a significant amount of time capturing the wilderness I spent almost every summer in during my childhood. But I just never got around to it. Productivity had no part in this trip and I'm incredibly thankful for that. I needed that. To shut down. To unplug. To eat. To laugh. To spend time with people I love. It was so nourishing. It was also however, very, very cold. Sweatshirt weather during the daytime, and beanie and parka weather at night. It most certainly dipped well into the low 30's after sunset which is not exactly something I'm used to. I realize I probably sound like a panzy because some of you live in that type of weather, but how often to you sleep outside during it?

I truly enjoy camping. The smell. The quiet. The time we get to spend with my family, it's wonderful. And something about it makes me feel like a kid again. Unfortunately that something is when I have to trek it to the bathroom in the middle of the freezing cold night. There's just something so unsettling about not being able to see further than the beam of my flashlight that I simply cannot contain while I'm up there. Then once I make it safely back to my tent I spend the next twenty minutes or so trying not to think about how easy it would be for someone or something to murder me while I lay helpless, bundled up in my sleeping bag. Some of you will either know exactly what I mean or think I am a complete nut case. But that will never change the fact that when I'm camping, I am afraid of the dark.

Getting away from the hustle and bustle of every day life has reminded me of more than just how liberating it can be to really shut things off for a few days. It's made me realize how this break from ttc has given me a piece of my life back. And I say "a piece", because I still don't feel whole. But at least it's something. A glimmer of who I was, and what I may be again someday in the future. When the noises of infertility don't invade my thoughts and dreams. When I live my day in small segments of time, instead of two week periods that seem to drag on until I realize that actually months, and years have passed.

I admit that in gaining a part of myself back, I've lost the part of me that yearns to spend so much time here. While I miss so many of you that I've come to know so well over the years, it's also a little painful. To see you move on, to see you fail, to see you waiting, like me, for when you've healed enough, saved enough to move on to the next step - whatever that may be. Being slightly removed from all the ups and downs makes me realize how difficult that world is, how consuming and demanding treatments can be. And I'm awe of the strength you each possess. And I'm reminded of the support you've all given me, and how I hope that I've been there for you as much as you've been there for me. I don't mean that to sound like I'm going anywhere, I just feel the need to clarify my absesnce from your comments and lack of posting here. It's an unfortunate struggle between wanting to know every little update in the lives I feel so invested in, and needing a little space from such an all encompassing saga. I hope that makes sense.