Camping at Balsam Lake

In writing as in life there not much worse than an anticlimactic ending. You build up carefully- slowly and surely- to your big plot point and reveal or you give something of a robust speech to rouse the troops and send them rushing into war, zealous for the task ahead.

After my rousing speech last post I was heartened by all your encouraging comments and the more-than-expected me too-s I got to read. Thank you.

That said, I was so hoping to come back with an anticlimactic ending. I was hoping to tell you all that after my hearty "we're going to do this thing!" infertility treatment speech, I was going to come back to tell the troops, somewhat embarrassingly but mostly happily, that there wasn't a war after all.

I was really hoping to arrive home from our Ontario vacation with the news that I was pregnant.

No, though. I'm not. Once again as I now know many of you can relate a seemingly perfect month ended with disappointment. The 21st time for us. No second line on the pregnancy test, no matter how long I stared.

I'm not one of the ones who get that beautiful surprise right before they took the plunge into treatment.

What I do get, however, is another chapter in the story to Burden #2 and so today I do the only thing left: I turn the page.

The first question I have to answer for myself is whether to spend a few months going the natural/holistic/supplementation route to fertility or whether I should jump right into the medicine. Or some combination thereof. If you've walked this road before me I'd love to hear what you did, how you decided, and what the outcome was. You can leave me a comment on this post or on facebook- I know your story will encourage other readers as well. If you're more private about your journey you can also send me a private message on facebook. Thank you!

Although I had hoped to enjoy our week-long camping trip harboring the happy secret of new life inside, I took the words of my readers to heart and I chose to focus on the joy in the journey and did not letting that negative test hang over our vacation.

Camping was awesome.

We beached and we biked; we sat and we swam; we devoured pancakes and s'mores, all to our heart's content.

Arie's skin tans beautifully, but he has two fair skinned parents, so he gets treated like one of us. Sunscreen slather. 

Arie loved all our camping activities and slept great through the night, but the highlight for him was simply being around family. Every morning after his eyes popped open the first question on his lips was, "What's Omi/Grampi/Auntie Jenna doing?"

The answer was always, "They're still sleeping" because none of them had a three year old to wake them up with the birds, but we quickly fixed that.

I believe the exact quote was, "AWAKE Bampi (Grampi)! AWAKE!" 

Around the campsite, John and I enjoyed watching our little man laugh and play with a plethora of family members- uncles and aunts, cousins, grandparents and even great-grandparents. I thought over and over again how marvelous it is to think that eight months ago this little boy was alone in the world and now he can't turn around without bumping into a member of his very own family. The love is endless.

So this isn't entirely related, but in Ontario your boating license title is a "Pleasure Craft Operator."  That's all I have to say about that. 

We ushered Arie into our family camping traditions: biking to the camp store after dinner for a treat and enjoying a big ol' fish fry compliments my grandpa's (and whoever else went fishing) catch of bass and perch.

A Canadian favourite. 

We did a little sight seeing around the campground- mostly watching boat locks and checking out antique shops.

Baby wearing = great for tired tots. 

With my little sister! It was really bright. 

No camping trip in Ontario is complete without at least one meal at a "chip truck." If you've never had poutine before, then you're probably not Canadian. So very delicious.

As the sun set through the Balsam trees each evening, we closed the day around the crackle and glow of a campfire.

I think I may have projected my fears about Arie falling into the fire because he spent the week refering to the fire pit and the grill as "too hot!"s. In the end he escaped the week with only one near-burn and it was from touching a frying pan. So next year I'll be sure to project that fear on all three "too hots" and not just two. ;-)

Injury-free, beautiful, restful, happy camping week it was. I asked Arie how he enjoyed the week yesterday and he exclaimed with a  smile, "More camping!"

Success.

xo