Change is Coming

The boxes are mostly packed. Cupboards are empty and closets are bare. The truck comes tomorrow. Tonight is the last night we will spend in this house. Of course, it's not the last night we will spend in this house as a family, that night was almost nine months ago...
Dave and I bought this house less than a year after we were married. It was -40 degrees (I'm not even kidding...) on that weekend we moved from our small apartment. I remember it was like Christmas when we moved in here because we finally got to use all of our wedding gifts that had been stashed in my parent's basement. We had no idea what we were getting into when we bought this house. We have put so much work into this house and yard.
It was here that I went through several months of fertility treatments and recovered from two surgeries. I remember the day we anxiously sat on the couch watching Friends, waiting for the doctor to call with test results from our first IVF cycle. I remember the cold, rainy and gray day we brought Max home from the hospital, and all the sleepless nights that followed. I remember the day I was holding a sleeping Max when the phone rang and it was our doctor calling with good news yet again. I didn't think life could get much better than the day we brought home our beautiful baby girl to be with her big brother.
This home has been the place where we saw first smiles, heard "Mommy" and "Daddy" for the first time and rocked tired babies to sleep. It's here we learned just how amazing it is to be parents and just how lucky we are to have been given two beautiful little people to love.
But in a way, I feel like this place has betrayed us. This was supposed to be a place of peace, safety and love. But everything changed nine months ago, when Ellie was ripped away from us. We put her to bed that last night, thinking everything was fine. Two babies tucked away safely in their cribs. But it was in this house that our little girl slipped away from us. Now, when I look around here, I don't just see happy babies playing on the floor on a blanket... Now I see an ambulance out front, a pale baby in my arms, any empty crib and empty corner in the dining room where a high chair should be sitting. It's almost like a big hole opened up in our basement one night, a gigantic chunk of our life fell into it and then the hole closed back up before we even realized what was happening.
We bought this house so we could start a family. And that's what we did. But we never, not even for one second, thought that this is where we would be just over four years later. We aren't moving to start over, we aren't moving to "move on." We are moving because we need a change. It hurts to be here without her. It hurts to BE without her. But we are hoping by moving, it will be easier to travel this path we've been forced down.
I am scared that by moving away from this home, the only place she ever lived, the memories will fade faster and things will get fuzzy. It's hard to walk into a room here and envision her playing where she once did, but what if it's harder not be here amongst the memories? I don't know. But change is coming- again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remembering July 21st, 2010

A day at the Children's Museum...

 This is what happens when Max is put into a new situation and he gets stressed out...

Our silly girl!

At home

 Typical Ellie :)