May 29, 2016.
Last year we did nothing. We were pregnant. Then we weren’t and we were surviving. We didn’t have fun or go away anywhere. Winter is usually a time that we escape to the South Island and we tramp in the hills and breathe the mountain air, and end up thigh deep in snow because it’s always ‘the biggest storm of the winter’ halfway through our walks!
Last winter we sat next to incubators and hoped.
This year, although getting out of the house for an hour sometimes feels like an impossible task, we are going away. We need a break and a change of scenery. We need a positive outlook and a confidence boost. We need mountains and we need space. Personally, and I can’t speak for William, but I need to be miles away from our house on the 29th of May. We are sorry to all of the people who will miss us (who am I kidding, not us, Oliver!!) and we are not going as a way to get away from visitors entirely. We love how many people love our boy and how much joy he gets from seeing and having cuddles with you all. But this isn’t about you. It’s about us. Which is extremely selfish, but also necessary. This entire journey we have tried to stay true to ourselves, because if you’ve gotta walk through hell you should be able to do it your own way.
So we are off!
Doing the crazy, impossible and daunting (you should see my lists!! I have a list of my lists, that’s how intense the planning is). We are heading to Queenstown for five long glorious weeks. We will walk by the lake, stare at the mountains, do short bush walks and snuggle inside on the stormy days. And reflect. We will reflect on the last 12 months and how we have changed and grown. I also plan to take some time to try and let go of some of my anger. Anger at the world for shaking our lives to the very core. Anger at all the people who get to have what we didn’t and never will. And anger at myself for everything I wish I’d done differently. I’m hoping to come back a better person. A more supportive and positive person. A little bit more of the person I used to be.
And the 29th? We will not eat spaghetti the night before (that’s how trauma works, you remember the stupid little things…), we will wake up and hold Oliver tight. We will talk about Charlie together. We will cry. And we will breathe as the day rolls over into a new year. A better year.