So, this past weekend was nice…we headed down to Chincoteague and enjoyed a few days in our favorite place. I spent Saturday with my hubby and it was just great.
We went crabbing on Saturday. It’s one of our favorite things to do…go down to the Crabbing Pier with a cooler of beer, a pack of chicken, and a few traps. Love it, and we have so much fun together. This past Saturday was no different. We had been there about half an hour when a young woman came along with her son. He was going into the fourth grade, and typical boy – but well-behaved and polite. Bob had gone back to the trailer to make another beer run (no, we aren’t lushes…I had only packed one for each of us), so I started chatting with this woman, and her son who was named Shane. My hubby came back and they moved to the end of the crabbing pier. It was their first time visiting our campground and they were kind of taking it all in.
As we crabbed, I notice Shane, watching every move we made. I leaned over to Bob and told him to take a couple of traps down, so Shane could pull them up. Shane was a little hesitant for about all of five minutes, until he landed his first, and then it was on….his mom kept trying to get him to go back to their campsite, but Shane was having too much fun (he caught a couple of keepers, by the way). His mom asked if he could stay with us while she ran back to her site to let them know where she was. She was gone nearly an hour, but he was a really good kid, and he was having such a good time.
When Shane’s mom did return (I didn’t catch her name), she came back with her girls – one 12 and one 15. They had been watching a movie and Mom told them they needed to get out and commune with nature. We gave the girls a couple of crab traps, and they got into a competition with Shane as to who would catch the keepers. The girls were ok with pulling up the traps, not so much with actually letting the crabs out of them, but it was a fun afternoon.
But my brain…well, it just wouldn’t be quiet. It kept whispering things to me like, “You could have been a mom like that…” or “wouldn’t it have been nice if we could have had a couple of kids?”
Sometimes I am caught in the middle…I don’t know what to call myself…am I childless? Am I technically infertile? I never considered myself infertile…I mean, my parts worked…but now, they are gone. So, am I infertile? Menopausal? I just don’t know.
Either way it hurts.