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When I had children I knew that I would make sacrifices. I sacrificed my body through all the fertility treatment, and then through the pregnancy as my hips spread and my butt expanded. I sacrificed my dignity as I sat on a toilet in the hospital naked screaming that my child was going to come out of me on the toilet if it had to. I closed my eyes and pushed, puked and even shit in front of way to many people but I had no idea that for my children I would…

Track through the woods on a cold, wet and windy day to find bugs and slugs.

Sleep in a old, gross smelly tent where every stick, rock and hard thing gravitated towards the spot where I would sleep.

Eat a black marshmellow that was dropped in the dirt just because my son was proud he roasted it by himself and just for mom.

Get stung three times and never find the bee – in the dark with a mini flash light.

It was an experience, as was childbirth and fertility but like most things we do as mothers – we block out the bad stuff and put ourselves through it again and again because the postivive memories push to forfront of our brains. Meaning I’m sure I will camp again. Afterall, we did find a spotted blue salamander, cuddle by the fire and learned that even with asthma we can travel and have fun (thank goodness the car has a power outlet).