Several months ago Mr. Husband and I booked an anniversary vacation. Tuesday is our second wedding anniversary and, honestly, it’s been a ROUGH two years. This week things got even worse when our first good news in years was yanked away.
I considered canceling the trip. It was only $300 for the hotel but all the food, Pinot Noir, and activity fees would really add up. We should be saving that money to pay for our next FET. If we canceled the trip, though, we would have to stay here and be reminded daily of what we lost. The fridge looks empty without the ultrasound photos on it. The little room upstairs that is waiting for a baby is a miserable reminder that we don’t have to remodel it anytime soon. While the four Large Fries (our four big cats) meow and lay in our laps, they constantly fail to fill the void in our hearts.
We need to get away.
So in a few hours, after I dig out some “fat & bloated” clothes, clean some litter boxes and shower for the first time in days, we’ll head out to Ashville, NC for a long weekend. Neither of us have been to Ashville and we are looking forward to the escape.
Even though we can’t have sexy time thanks to this crappy D&C, we can have snuggling time. We can drink wine till we are silly. We can hike to waterfalls. We can simply be together and hopefully start to heal in preparation to move on, because we will try again. And again. And again until we have a take-home baby. Come hell or high water, Mr. Husband and I will not leave this world with only a pile of cats to serve as heir to my Wal-Mart Corelle dishes, our Ikea furniture and Mr. Husband’s impressive collection of knock-off Harbor Freight tools.