Can what? Can parent. Can provide a loving, supportive, nurturing environment for another person. Can make it through the tough times, exhausting times, frustrating times, and maddening times. I know it won't be easy, but I know we can.
From what I hear from family, friends, and parenting class, parenting isn't 'always roses'. Not that I had this expectation when starting this journey, but it has become clear that it is one of the hardest things you'll ever do. As my sister-in-law says, "Parenting is one of the toughest jobs you'll ever love."
For the past 2.5 years as we've walked the path of expanding our family I seem to have tried to try to draw parallels between things going on in my life and how it's preparing us to be parents. Raising and caring for Riley and Wallace, our golden retrievers, has taught us how to negotiate responsibility, clean up poop and puke, be patient, and learn to discipline. These are only a few things we've learned from our 'fur-children' that we hope we can apply to raising a child. Struggling with infertility taught us to let go of expectations and 'your plan'. Things don't always work out the way you plan, but they do always work out... I'm sure this learning will come in handy frequently throughout the rest of our lives, not just in dealing with our child, but other areas as well.
The most recent parallel I've drawn is how cycling is preparing us to be parents. I know, I'm sure it sounds crazy, but just bear with me... As I've stated in previous posts, cycling has been Dave's and my biggest coping mechanism while waiting for our Little One. Last Saturday we completed our 2nd of 3 century rides we registered for this summer. For those of you who are unsure what a century is, it's a bike ride, that is at least 100 miles, that you complete in one day. You might compare it to what a Marathon is in the running world.
In July we did a 112 mile ride over three mountain passes near Steamboat Springs, and this weekend we did a 102 mile ride that started in a little town called La Veta. Both amazingly beautiful rides. Anyway, so much of completing a century ride is doing just that, completing it. It's not about how fast you do it, but the fact that you actually finish it (maybe someday we'll go for speed). During this kind of ride, it's a given that for a 10 -20 mile stretch somewhere in the ride you think to yourself, and maybe even say to someone else, "This stinks! I'm exhausted and I can't go any further!" For me it usually happens between miles 60 and 80. And usually there's a point where it happens for Dave too. When it happens without even saying a word, Dave and I know what the other person is thinking. Until this weekend it had always been that when one of us felt like we were going to die, the other person would be feeling great and could take the lead to pull the person along a bit (drafting), slow down the pace, and lend a few encouraging words... But this weekend it happened to both of us at the same time... After lunch there was a horrible head wind we were fighting for about 20 miles and it zapped the energy and motivation right out of both of us. We both said to each other around mile 70, "I don't know if I can do this..." "Uh, oh..." I thought to myself.... Well, we stopped at the next aide station, ate some yummy homemade brownies, took a couple of Advil, rested in the shade for about 10 minutes, and were on our way again. The wind settled down and we began our long climb before a fun 17 mile descent back to where we started. We made it... We made it because we are a team and can often times communicate without saying a word...
I know this will come in handy when we bring our Little One home, there will be times when I'm fried and Dave takes over, times with Dave's fried and I take over, and times where we'll both fried but will still have the strength to pull through. This is one of the reasons I know we can... can be parents.
The view during our ride... This picture doesn't com
e close to doing it justice.
View from the first aide/feed station... Not too bad.
Me at the top of "Soul Crusher" as the locals call it... 2 miles of 10% - 15% grade.
Self portrait of "the team"
