This is it. Tonight will be the last night we sleep in our bed, in our very first house. Tomorrow we move in with my in-laws temporarily and my car is being shipped to Seattle. Our pod leaves on Thursday. We leave a week from Friday. And closing will happen sometime in between.
It's very hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that this will be the last night in our home. I still remember how I felt the moment I stepped inside the front door. We first went to see it in January 2010. It was a foreclosure, and it was a complete mess. Everything from floor to ceiling needed to be redone. But we saw the potential. We saw our future. In the midst of infertility treatments, this is where we wanted to bring home our child.
We closed in March of that year and spent the next month or so making it our own before we moved in. A couple of months later, our infertility treatments would end without success. We were heartbroken, and our house seemed emptier than ever.
Then, we brought home Danica.
She made our hearts, and our house, feel fuller. But we knew we still wanted to be parents.
So, it was in this home where we sat across from each other at the kitchen table and confirmed that we wanted to adopt. It was this home that we cleaned from top to bottom, preparing for our home visit from the social worker. It was this home where we set up a nursery and unpacked baby clothes. It was in this home where we spent many nights wide awake, wondering when (or if) we would get "the call."
Finally, last summer, this home became everything we ever envisioned. It became what we originally set out for it to be. It became the house we brought our child home to.
It became the place where we rocked her to sleep. The place where we celebrated nearly all of her firsts. It became forever a part of not just our lives, but hers. It was more than just a house or a home.
It was the place where we became a family.
A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of meeting the buyers. They are a young couple, about my age, who recently married over the summer. They held the same expression that I saw on our own faces back when we were purchasing our house -- that look of hope for the future. And as sentimental as it makes me to close our front door and lock it one last time, I also feel a sense of joy.
That perhaps our home's family-building days aren't over just yet.