Thursday, June 25, 2020

House Hunting Hurts

So I'm moving again. For those keeping count, this will be my third move since starting this blog. It will be my fourth move since selling the house I bought for my children. Moving is hard, but each situation I move myself into is such an improvement for my mental health.

For this move, I considered renting and buying. I want to rent first to make sure I like the area before buying a place, but there isn't a lot available to rent. Also, I'm sick of moving and I'm just ready to settle down and I pick this town. I got a job there and I can quilt anywhere. Eventually, I will meet a friend or two. Or at least have friendly faces at work.

The pandemic is making everything so much harder.

And I wasn't exactly at the top of my mental and physical health game before this. I give myself a ton of credit for all of the work I have done with processing my grief, but I am still emotionally injured.

Overall, I am so grateful. I have love and meaning in my life. My boyfriend is wonderful and I love my new career. The last missing piece is a Home. I know that home is where the heart is and home is what you make it and all that, but I really desire a single physical spot where I can put all of my books on the shelves. I want to stop changing my address and I want to finally unpack all of my boxes.

I'm 40. I'm ready to settle down and live the rest of my life. If possible.
But as always, I will go with what reality brings.

So back to moving. I started looking at houses to buy. At first it was kind of fun, looking at places and trying to imagine myself living there. But then three different houses I was interested in went into pending in one week and I felt such a disproportionate amount of loss that I knew I needed to step away from the process.

I cried all last week. By now you probably know that I'm a crier. It's how I usually process my feelings. But those tears HURT. Those tears were all about getting excited about something major for the rest of my life and then losing it before it ever happened. Way way way too familiar.

It took me by surprise. At first, I was so mad at myself. "I'm so damaged, I can't even look at houses to buy like 'normal' people do?" But then I was more compassionate with myself. "It's okay. You've been through a lot. Your resources have been low for years now but look at what all you've done anyway. You will get through this, but it's okay to take a break for now."

So that's what I'm doing. House hunting hurts too much right now. I'm taking a break.
Fortunately, I can share extremely good news: I found a place to rent! It is a HUGE relief.

So I will be okay. I am doing just fine.
I will continue to respect my healing process and where I'm at with things.



  1. I'm glad you're showing yourself some compassion. It's really important. And I remember when I bought the house I'm living in now - I was desperately scared we wouldn't get it! And if we had lost it, I would have cried for a week. (Okay, maybe not an entire week, but it was pre-infertility, and the floodgates hadn't yet opened.) So be kind to yourself - it's perfectly normal to want something. You have to fall in love with a house before you put in an offer. I'd hate to live in a house I didn't feel any compulsion to buy.

    Your last sentence is brilliant and wise and healing. Good for you.

    1. Thanks Mali. <3

      (I know there are much bigger problems in the world right now, but I continue to blog about the ways that my experience with infertility still affects me. Thank you for understanding.)

  2. Sending you a giant hug and also glad that you are showing yourself compassion. House hunting is oddly stressful in the best of times, but with all the layers you bring to the process it amplifies the stress and sense of loss and uncertainty and things being out of control. I'm so glad you found a place to rent! And I'm glad you have an awesome boyfriend and a place where you can put down roots.

    1. Thank you Jess. <3 I really appreciate your kindness and understanding.