Mountains and valleys

Yesterday was a rough day. Thank god for Chris...he pulled me through with dinner and Family Guy. There wasn't any one thing that happened that made me so sad; the grief just randomly comes and punches you in the (babyless) gut, and the tears start rolling. Sometimes I think I'm crying because I miss Caleb, sometimes because I miss being pregnant, sometimes because I WANT to be pregnant, sometimes because I'm so scared to try again, sometimes because I fear not being able to get pregnant again, and sometimes because I worry that if I do get pregnant that this will happen again. And sometimes just because.

I think that as it gets further away from Caleb's birthday that the sad times actually hit harder. It seems backwards, but all the happy, normal times between the sad times made those times all the more difficult. When you're low already, as I was in the days following his birth, going a little lower doesn't make much of a difference. Getting hit by a train isn't so different than getting hit by a bus. But when you're feeling happy, going low just hurts so much more.

Aruba was definitely a high point. We went with great people, and for much of the time I was able to feel normal and not like a Dead Baby Mama.

I saw some enormous iguanas, which are all over the island...


...including this poor guy, who clearly had a rough life - missing part of his tail and one of his front feet!


I saw blue parrot fish and puffer fish.




I fed the flamingos (which aren't native, just part of the hotel's attractions).






They are LOUD (and frankly, kind of dumb).


I saw the biggest hermit crab EVER.


I saw this bird (I think a dove?) with a target around his eye begging some kid to shoot his eye out.


I went on a pirate ship.


I went on a party bus.


I had some drinks (but surprisingly, did not get wasted at any point, though looking at the second picture you might beg to differ).




Unlike, say, these guys.


(Don't ask.)

I wore a ridiculous hat, which I did not need booze to be persuaded to do. Chris, however, was slightly drunk at this point. And not happy that I slapped a sombrero on his head. And then forced him to take a picture.




I wrote our names on the wall (and in a corner, secretly wrote Caleb's name too).


Chris managed to get burned while reading on the beach despite the fact that he was completely in the shade AND it was dusk.


We booked a couple's massage on a private island off the coast. Okay, it wasn't really private, there were probably 100 people there. But it was a huge and everyone was spread out, and you had to be a hotel guest (or pay an exorbitant fee for a massage like we did) to access the island. You got there by grabbing a speedboat taxi on the mainland. It was absolutely beautiful and so serene. The first two pictures are of the little massage hut, and the last one is of the island itself. (And I probably shouldn't say that this was our second massage of the trip, should I?)






Let me just say that getting Chris to enjoy a good massage is one of the best things I've ever done.

Lastly, we enjoyed lots of beautiful sunsets.


(Note the boob tan in that picture. Eeek.)




Aruba really IS "One Happy Island," and thank god, because that's exactly what I needed.