I have two confessions to make.

First, I love vacation.

Second, I am terrified of vacation.

Let me explain.

For as long as my husband and I have been together – 15 years – we have made it a point to go on a summer vacation. Most years we went to a private lake in the middle of nowhere VT (which was super awesome when we lived in NJ and worked in NYC). We could completely unplug (not that there was much cell service anyway) and totally relax. After our daughter was born we went on vacation to Maine with my family. As first time parents it was nice to have several other adults around to help out, plus it allowed us to sneak away for a little while. The year I was pregnant with the boys was the last time we went on vacation – that was the summer of 2013.

With all the complications of that pregnancy and the hectic year that followed with Gavin and all his doctor’s appointments and tests we didn’t feel comfortable going on vacation last year.

This year I decided “to hell with that! We’re going on vacation!” Now that vacation is a mere two weeks away, I’m getting very nervous – ok if I’m being honest here, more than a little nervous.

Here’s the thing. I’m a planner, straight out of the textbook “Type A” personality. I’m a list maker. My lists have lists, and I like it that way. I try to anticipate and plan for all possibilities (not to toot my own horn but I’ve gotten pretty good at it!)

The one possibility I can’t plan for is Gavin having another breathing issue and landing in the hospital again (this happened about three weeks ago with a milder instance the following week). While I can “plan” in the sense of knowing exactly where the closest hospital is and the quickest route there, plus having a copy of his latest x-rays, ct scans and any blood work on hand the fact is I have no way of knowing if he’ll have any issues. This is going to sound odd, but the comfort of our hospitals and doctors will be 3.5 hrs away and I will be relying on staff that I have never met and that don’t know Gavin from John Doe down the street.

The logical part of me knows that this will be a reoccurring theme in our lives until doctors can identify WHAT is causing his breathing issues (so far no luck with any of the scans/tests they’ve run). And realistically even once that happens he’s still likely to have these issues unless it’s one of those “he’ll grown out of it” conditions. Or as scary as this is, it could be some entirely different issue that pops up – yeah I’m such a comfort to myself sometimes.

It’s the emotional part of me that likes to rear its head from time to time – when I least want it to – to throw a little monkey wrench in my plans. So I have given it a lot of thought and for the short-term so as to avoid ruining vacation for my family and for myself, I’m “simply” going to ignore the emotional part of me.

As some wise person said (likely my mother) “if you plan for it, you won’t need it.” I’ve done all the planning I can do. My lists are all set and in about two weeks I’ll start packing everyone up. All I really need to do is just sit back (preferably with an adult beverage) and enjoy vacation! As they say, let the chips fall where they may.