VACATION!!!

So, I leave for my annual vacation in Maine TOMORROW. I love it there. I treasure my mornings runs in the mist along the coast and the quiet, rhythmic bleat of the fog horn in the distance. My family rents a house right on the water in Boothbay Harbor. We spend our days sailing, hiking, reading books, and shopping. Our evenings are marathon sessions of games and wine with fresh lobster, corn on the cob, and icecream with real chocolate jimmies.

This time last year on vacation in Maine my hubby and I were in the exuberant throes of the first three months of really "trying" to get pregnant. On the drive up to Boothbay from Portland, I started to feel really really sick to my stomach....I was secretly hoping that it was morning sickness (I was on CD 33 with no period in sight) and that I was pregnant. 24 hours later after staying up all night with massive stomach pains and diarrhea I knew that I was NOT pregnant. I ended up being sick the ENTIRE vacation. I couldn't eat lobster, drink wine, eat the best ice cream EVER, and--even worse--I had to face yet another failed attempt to get pregnant. I was sick for an entire month...going to several doctors and specialists to figure out what was wrong with me and ending up with a diagnosis of "fatty liver" and symptoms that slowly dissipated over time. I personally think that I had some sort of stomach ulcer, but no tests ever confirmed that. Anyway, back when we first started trying, I had hoped that by this time (August 2008) I would have a little 3-6 month old and that I could spend 3 weeks with my family in Maine right before going back to work from maternity leave. One year later and what a different perspective. I thankfully have a little bun in the oven and a much different appreciation for where I am in my life.

A couple of bloggers that I have been reading have been talking about their concern about being a mom and that they were/are concerned that they would/will lose some of their identify or their drive to exercise or their figures after they had a baby. I can definitely identify with this. From age 27-28.5, I spent a lot of time thinking about whether I really wanted to be a mother and lamenting how unfair it was that women have to bear the entire burden of hosting a child for 9+ months, nursing that child, suffering irreparable consequences to their body from both, taking time out from work, and--on top of all that--typically carrying the majority of the child-rearing responsibilities. I wasn't sure that I was ready to give up my freedom or my "figure" or my running or make sacrifices in my career. I decided to take the plunge regardless only to find out that it actually was not a given that my husband and I could have children. And, my world shifted.

After dealing with infertility, I better appreciate the gift of having children and being a parent to any child, especially one who shares genes in common with me and my partner. By having to make sacrifices to have the possibility of children...having to gain weight, restricting the activities that I loved (running and training), taking hormones, having to undergo painful surgeries, learning to give myself (dreaded) shots, and doing all of this alone (in the sense that no one but me could go through this for my husband and I to have children), I came to realize how much I wanted to be a mother. And, that life isn't fair. And, that sacrifices don't make you less of who you are, but a better and more textured person. Three and a half years after I really started to think about having children, I think that I am in a much better place to have them. I know that it will be difficult and that the baby's priorities will sometimes trump my own. All I have to do is think about the months that I spent mourning the loss of my biological child who had my eyes and his nose to remember how much I value this amazing baby in my belly...making me sick all day and poking my bladder:>