The night before I went into labor with Harper, I tucked in the girls. I sang them their songs. I did the whole routine and I didn’t even know that it was the last time I’d tuck them in just the two of them like that. The next night before we left for the hospital, I rushed to tuck them in and kiss them between bouts of contractions. It just wasn’t the same. I knew it was a kind of good-bye and the good-bye made it different. For 9 months we’d been preparing for our new baby - but when it was time for her to come, we still weren’t ready. We were excited about what was ahead but sad about what we were leaving behind. I felt sad in the hospital thinking of it.
It’s been a long time goal of ours to move to Seattle. We love the beauty of the city, the culture, the old houses filled with character. For the past 10 months, Lucas has been on the hunt for a job with minimal promising leads. We were starting to wrap our minds around the idea of being here another year: house hunting and enrolling the girls at their local school. Then, just a few days after Harper was born, Lucas was offered a final interview for a job in Bellevue (a suburb of Seattle.)
So, this is it. We are moving to Seattle. This thing that we’ve been dreaming of, wishing for, praying about is finally here. And, somehow, we’re still left feeling completely unprepared.
Lucas and I both grew up in California. All 3 of our daughters were born here. I am proud of California for producing most of the world’s food, for producing some of the world’s fiercest liberals, and for producing almost all of the most beautiful people I know. But, it’s time to part ways, and I’m excited for what’s ahead.
We’ve been running into people we know everywhere we go. Basically just acquaintances: the cashier at the grocery store, a CLU student while out on a walk, the people we always sit in front of at church, the other moms at preschool. Part of me feels obligated to tell them we’re moving. We are these fixtures, these accessories in their lives and they are in ours. But, then, I don’t. I just want to be the one to know that this is our last interaction. I don’t want things to change because of the good-bye.
I’ve spent at least the last hour trying to recall the last time I went into Whole Foods. I keep thinking, “and I didn’t even know it was my last time in Whole Foods.” It was just a regular trip.
Meanwhile, our place has turned into more of a disaster zone than ever. All this time, I’ve been stuffing down hate for our tiny, sterile, hospital-like apartment. I’m so sick of the linoleum, the plywood, the spray painted plastic fixtures. And still, I feel nostalgia for the walls that sheltered each of my girls at their tiniest.
Seattle, here we come! To a little old house with an attic, and a fire place, and a backyard. To a beautiful city skyline and lush green trees that change colors with the seasons. To occasional snow, public transportation, and a slower pace of life. My heart, my eyes, and my mind are wide open and ready to receive.
So, this week we’re packing up all our baggage (including the 25 extra pounds I have left to lose from my pregnancy) and we’re headed for a new state and a new life. Pray for us, wish us luck, or whatever you’re inclined to do. We’ll need it, and we’ll still need you. Of course, that’s what we’ll miss most as we head out on this new adventure: our family, our friends, our memories here with those we love. I feel terrified, giddy, and blessed all at once.