So where was I?

Two years ago, I went to Busch Gardens in Williamsburg, Virginia with my husband and two stepchildren, Shannon and Reagan. Two days prior, I had undergone emergency surgery in which my right tube was removed. It may have been crazy. No, it WAS crazy. I could barely get in and out of the car without significant pain. But at the time, my stepchildren were living in TX and Jeff and I in NC- so this was during the 6 week period when we had them with us, and I couldn't imagine denying Jeff this opportunity on my account. It seemed that we all needed to reconnect and have fun more than ever before. So we went. And... it was indeed fun. As I write this, I have two images that come to mind. One is of a picture of us taken on one of those rides with a big drop. I am SCREAMING- terrified and exhilerated. I have never liked roller coasters- I like to be in control, not at the whim of some stupid vehicle designed for people who think being scared is FUN. That has never been me. But that summer, that trip, I took a couple risks. After all, I had experienced things that were truly scary so recently that perhaps these trivial frights seemed fun in comparison. Whatever the motivation behind it, I did it and we have the pictures to prove it. The other image is of me on a waterslide, ripping open one of my stitches. After the years of caution- eating right, not drinking, not doing anything that might possibly hurt my chances of getting pregnant- I said screw it. Screw doctor's orders, screw my fears, screw my better judgement, screw responsible adulthood. I am riding this waterslide, come what may.

The stitch healed, as did my fresh emotional wounds.

Two years later, we plan to depart for Williamsburg once again this weekend. This time with four children, not two. Again, people tell me I am crazy for driving 8-9 hours with 14 month old twins, for braving the heat, for trying to navigate the crowds and complications of a decidedly un-baby-friendly environment. And again, I say screw it- why not?

And so, next week when I am feeling sorry for myself because I am stuck in a townhouse while my husband and stepchildren are off galavanting, and when I am exhausted because Julien refuses to sleep for more than a three hour stretch in a new environment, and when I am wondering what exactly possessed us to undertake this adventure...

I will remember where we were two years ago. And how far we have come. And how ridiculously blessed I am to be "burdened" with these complications. And who knows, maybe I'll even take a moment to throw caution to the wind and do something that scares me, just for the hell of it. Just because I can. And to remind me that conquering my fears led me to the most fulfilling, wonderful, amazing ride of my life.