We have just returned from two fabulous weeks in France. The sun shone, the wine flowed and the children were so exhausted from playing in the swimming pool and on the waterslides that they slept well. Perhaps the French shutters hiding the early morning sun contributed to this. Food was an important part of the holiday (well it was France after all); breakfasts were late, lazy and outdoors and lunches were typically long and French. Bliss!
It made me think of our holidays three years ago: a very different affair. In May, we went to Devon for a long weekend. I had just found out I was pregnant but I felt fine. For a brief time, I dared to hope that maybe I had escaped this time. But no, sadly I was wrong. Shortly after returning home, it hit me and I was soon in the depths of HG again only this time it was worse.
Our next holiday was supposed to be a week by the beach in Cornwall at the end of June (booked pre-pregnancy, of course). What I would have given for a change of scene. A different toilet to be sick in and a different bed to lie in would have been a welcome relief after weeks of being housebound, staring at the same four walls. But I was too ill to leave the house, let alone manage a four hour car journey and so the holiday had to be cancelled.
Along with Christmas, holidays are perhaps the only time of the year when we are able to spend uninterrupted, precious time with our families without distractions from school or work. They are times to be cherished. Having missed two entire summers while in bed suffering from HG, I have come to appreciate holidays even more.
But thoughts of holidays will have to wait a while as I now have to return to my Nine months of ... challenge to raise awareness. It's only a few days since we returned home but already there have been interesting and positive developments on this front. So watch this space ...
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