In T-4 sleeps, a 3 ton truck will pull up outside our house and load 10 years worth of collected furniture & personal belongings and move us to our new home. Oddly, I have very mixed feelings. On the one hand, I’m super excited for our new beginning, for our gorgeous new, big house. But on the other hand, I am also a little sad. I know a house is just bricks and mortar but this house has been so much more than that to us.
I lost my voice countless times from fighting with the builder. We spent hours in meetings with architects planning and altering the plans. We spent hours at Tile Africa and CTM, choosing the perfect tiles and taps. We poured over carpet swatches to find the perfect carpets. Every inch of that house was chosen and planned by us. We labored and sweated in the garden to build it into the beautiful French Provincial feel it has today.
In T-4 sleeps, I will never walk into the kitchen, look at the missing door and remember the time that Walter and I took our frustration, hurt and anger over our infertility and my 6th miscarriage out on the kitchen door. Each taking turns punching and kicking it while screaming our lungs out. Till our neighbour came and knocked on the front door, demanding to see me, convinced that what was us relieving our stress, sadness and pent up anger was in fact a domestic violence case. We sheepishly removed the kitchen door the following day and have often had a giggle and wondered what the neighbours must have thought when they saw our totally batter kitchen door lying on top of our garbage removal, kicked and punched full of holes!
In T-4 sleeps, I will never get to lie in my sun filled bedroom again, remembering the times I lay there, deadly still, too afraid to move, being waitered on hand and foot by Walter and we waited between repeat beta’s, praying that bed rest would be all that was needed to save another doomed pregnancy.
In T-4 sleeps, I will never get to sleep in our bedroom again. The bedroom that became like a cocoon for me. Each time I miscarried, I’d go into that room, close the curtains and take to my bed, sobbing, for days one end. With Walter surreptitiously coming to check up on me as I lay in that bed and vacillated between uncontrollable sobbing and silent tears while staring into space.
In T-4 sleeps, I’ll never get to sit in our lounge again and have a giggle and a laugh over how I learned to inject myself, right there, in that room. Laying out all my injectable paraphernalia on the coffee table, selecting the perfect spot to inject into my stomach, thigh’s or bum, cleaning the area, holding up the syringe and before giving myself a change to chicken out, plunging the needle into my flesh as Walter looked on and did his best not to gasp or faint.
This house has been our safety and our refuge for 10 years. The only thing it ever lacked was the sound of a child’s laughter. This house witnessed a lot of hope, a lot of sadness, a lot of tears and a lot of grief. But it also underwent a transformation when the sadness, tears and grief evaporated and were replaced by the sounds of a new born baby’s cries.
This was the home we had where we tacked the greatest challenge of our lives thus far. This was the home that saw us get beaten down a thousand times and rise back up again and ultimately, this was the home that saw has victorious over our infertility and welcome a beautiful child into our lives.
In T-4 days we move into our dream home. In T-4 days the timing will be as perfect as it’s ever going to get for our second placement. In T-4 days a new journey begins and while I try not to look back because I’m reminded of sadness, I am so excited at looking forward to what lies ahead….
Because I just know it’s all good things!