Losing Control

Like I've written before, it was insane finding out about our little guy/gal one day after putting our house on the market. In no way did we think these large life events might intersect. And for the first couple weeks, everything was fine. The weather was still chilly, the ground still covered with some snow, and house-hunters weren't out in hoards for viewings.

The first couple weeks of pregnancy for me were much the same way. I didn't feel tired or sick. I didn't feel different at all, really. Pregnant, yes. But maybe I'd be one of those lucky gals who just sail gracefully through the entire 1st trimester. So, life continued on. I thought we could totally handle everything at one time.

We still had 50 days to sell. We'd have no problem.

Then one sunny Sunday morning, "morning" sickness kicked me in the gut. With the nicer weather, our place began attracting interest, which meant keeping our spaces pristine morning, noon, and night. Very soon after that, the exhaustion took over. It felt like the 50-mile week at the height of marathon training last fall. Yet, it was seemingly never-ending. I would come home from work, lay on the couch, try to eat dinner, watch an hour or tv (on the couch), and then go to bed.

As time went on, though, we got into a better rhythm. We somehow found a way to keep everything looking presentable. There were more than a few sweaters thrown under the bed each morning. The attic had never been fuller of discarded crap. In desperation, I even stuffed a few dishes in an empty drawer after a particularly bad sickness episode. It happened five minutes before I had to leave for work, so there was no time to tidy the kitchen. Oh, yeah. And we had a viewing that morning -- so I HAD to leave. Immediately.

Sick. Tired. Cranky. House not selling!

For a while, it was hell. I mean, the peak traffic times corresponded p.e.r.f.e.c.t.l.y with my peak sickness times. Weeks 6 through 10. It was just under a month, but I promise you, it felt like an eternity. As we edged closer to our cut-off date -- May 15 -- I started to get this strange feeling. I didn't want to sell our house anymore. I didn't want to move in the summer. Pregnant.

We could make our space work.
We'd save a ton of money, too.

It may be that nesting instinct. But I started to see possibilities everywhere. Nothing was really WRONG with our home. I think we mostly wanted change. And boy did we get it somewhere else! Reasons we wanted to sell originally: We thought it was too small. One bathroom is a squeeze for three people. The kitchen leaves much to be desired.

But the list of good was getting longer:

• Our neighborhood is beautiful with lots of sidewalks and parks
• Our appliances are all relatively new
• 1,200 square feet isn't THAT small
• Our yard is gorgeous and much larger, more private that other homes in our area
• We live less than one block from a park
• We've already invested much time/energy/money into our place
• The painting is already done
• The furniture is already placed
• We'd be saving TONS of money because the new place needed basically everything updated

So, two days before our contract agreement was up, we had mentally reached peace with not selling. After our last open house, interest had trailed off anyway. And we've been told over and over again that the market is terrible right now. In fact, another home down the street from ours dropped off the market the same week. Same reasons.

With our decision to stay came that feeling of stability. With that calmness, I also began to feel physically better. Things were starting to make much more sense. Focus could now be directed to the right thing: Me! Errr. The baby! Yes. The baby!

In the early days of trying to sell, I could only imagine raising our little one in that new house. Making a nursery in that specific room I had picked out. Making meals in that kitchen after buying all new appliances and rehabbing the cabinets and countertops. Playing in that room we had planned to rip out carpets, pull down wallpaper, and replace sliding doors, etc. But now? It all sounds like so much work. So much struggle.

What I learned is to let go. To lose control willingly.

This whole pregnancy process is going to be full of surprises. Some good. Some bad. Some scary. But trying to take control won't necessarily help. It'll just add stress. In the process of trying to make everything just-so, we may miss some great things. Overlook other, perhaps better options. So, though I know I'll want to work hard to get some things (houses, birth plans, nurseries, cloth diapers, Graco prints, kitchens, etc.) exactly how I want them, I'm now along for the ride.

I don't usually love rides . . . but this one's getting better every day!

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