Mommy Confessions: Moving Day Is Coming

Moving day is upon us.  In four days, we’ll be leaving our first home as a family.

Cue the sobbing now.

We had this home built, and Derek even built the front porch himself.  During the time we’ve lived here, we got married, got a puppy, took new jobs and then more new jobs, got pregnant, and had Benjamin.  When I picture my water breaking in this house, and the hours we spent here before going to the hospital, not knowing what to expect from labor, birth, or parenting, I can feel the little prickles of tears coming to my eyes, and an onslaught of memories flooding in. 

I’m thrilled beyond thrilled for our new house. We can build this new house to be just what we want.  We’ll live in a nice neighborhood, with other families and without running the risk of rogue pitbulls attacking Benjamin or Cooper.  Benjamin will attend much better schools, there’s better job opportunities, and just a whole lot more going on in our new area. 

BUT.

Oh… my… god…  All of my memories of Benjamin as a baby are in this house.  Bringing him home from the hospital, as a little cuddly bundle.  The days that he and I spent on the couches when he was a tiny newborn, nursing away.  His bassinette tucked up against the front window in our living room.  The long newborn nights of feedings, and diaper changes, and feedings, and diaper changes (let’s not forget getting peed on many, many times!).  Teeny tiny newborn clothes, and miniature diapers.  That sweet new baby smell.  Being able to carry him wherever I went, and feeling his warmth as he was snuggled up in the Moby wrap. 

And then came rolling over, and then sitting.  First smiles, and giggles, and laughing.  Shortly after, there was crawling, and walking.  First holidays and first birthdays.  And many, many more snuggles.  A year spent sharing a bed with a baby, nursing a baby, and figuring out motherhood.  Our very first child – his whole life up until this point has been in this home.

As I pack up our belongings, I’m finding myself quite melancholy – it didn’t really sink in until we took everything off the walls.  I got teary-eyed and let out a long, deep sigh when I took down the framed art that was hanging in Benjamin’s nursery – the frames that I so carefully hung when my belly was bursting at the seams, waiting for Ben to make his entrance into the world. 

Of course, we’ll make new warm fuzzy memories in our new home, but it’s really hard to leave these ones behind.

 

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