Jenny and I didn’t know that those three weeks in Southern California in 1996 would be our first trip of many. That 26 years later, we’d be packing our bags for a staycation at a Boulder hotel to celebrate what was unthinkable to us at the time: her pregnancy, created in a doctor’s office, costing unfair amounts of money, and done entirely, achingly, alone. We only knew that adulthood and babies and, sigh, relationships, were still out there.