As I mentioned in my #100happydays post yesterday, we took a long weekend road trip. The highlights of the weekend were the Dave Matthews Band concert at the Gorge Amphitheater in Washington and the Going-To-The-Sun Road in Glacier National Park in Montana.

We made a relatively last minute decision to buy concert tickets and drive to Washington State knowing that we’d either dealing with the disappointment of a negative cycle or we’d be 4-5 weeks pregnant with a high risk pregnancy. (We figured doing the drive at 4-5 weeks pregnant wouldn’t be the end of the world, because a miscarriage this early is relatively “easy” – the things I never thought I’d consider easy…).

It turns out we were not pregnant and I took the disappointment really hard (you can read all about that here).

I was really upset that it didn’t work. We’ve never had 4 failed consecutive cycles (yes, we did have a biochemical pregnancy, but I figure if our RE doesn’t count it, then for the sake of counting failed cycles the same way he does, then I will not either). Typically we get pregnant within 2 or 3 months after a loss. So, to hit the 4 mark, was really hard on me.

It turns out I expected that we’d be pregnant by now. In this whole pregnancy/infertility thing, that’s the only part we get right, so when we weren’t again, the fears kind of took over and I really struggled. The fears of not getting pregnant were really strong. I didn’t expect this emotion, or at least not this strongly.

So, the weekend away turned out to be the perfect timing. A completely adult focused weekend away that was exactly what we needed. We had fun, just like we would have before recurrent pregnancy loss took over our lives.

We started drinking at noon, and drank all afternoon and evening.

We consumed way too much alcohol.

We drank way too expensive, yet delicious, margaritas from mini plastic guitars. 

We ate mostly horrible fast-food for four days.

We slept in a tent surrounded by tens of thousands of perfect strangers.

We stayed up way too late.

We were both hung-over the next morning.

We chatted and enjoyed the company of complete strangers.

Our weekend not only reminded us that we need to have fun, but it also helped remind my husband and I about just how much we like each other. We enjoyed our time together, without being focused on everything baby. On top of an afternoon/evening of fun at the actual concert (which was awesome), we also enjoyed our time together while driving. While driving with just the two of us in the car for 2258 km (1403 mi) we had some great conversations. Some of which were about babies and/or adoption. But, many were not. We talked about future big travel plans (Alaska and South Africa are currently high on our list) and we talked his job and what I am going to do eventually. We talked about camping trips we want to plan for next summer. We talked about the difference (or lack there of) between the Rocky Mountains in US and Canada.  We talked about world politics and famous people who took naked photos of themselves and were surprised when they were hacked and stolen.  I sang horribly to bad song, and my husband didn’t kick me out of the car (I guess, that must be a sign of true love?).

Ultimately, while we had an awesome time, I was also able to get over the disappointment of the failed cycle. The weekend helped me refocus on my typical attitude that maybe baby number 6 will be our miracle baby. I am now focusing on hoping that this cycle will be the lucky one, but I also know that I cannot control when we will get pregnant again. So for now rather then worry about things beyond my control,

I will hold onto hope because the future is not yet written.

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