So, we moved this past weekend. Moving in general is awful. Moving while pregnant is not for the faint of heart. Every part of my body aches, and yes, I mean every part. I don’t […]
Moving is fun! Don’t I look thrilled?
So, we moved this past weekend. Moving in general is awful. Moving while pregnant is not for the faint of heart. Every part of my body aches, and yes, I mean every
part. I don’t know anything about CrossFit, but I imagine that it’s something like moving while seven months pregnant. It was literally one of the most exhausting days of my life.
When we found out we were expecting, the walls of our one-bedroom condo quickly began closing in on us, and we knew we needed to find a bigger place. The lease we had on our condo was through the end of July, so we had a few months to find a new home after finding out that baby would make three. We were fortunate to quickly find a new home; one of my husband’s relatives was preparing to move and wanted to rent out his townhome, so we jumped at that opportunity. Somehow after weeks of planning and packing, this past weekend finally arrived.
Here’s what I learned: Moving while pregnant is like entering a marathon without training. You’re supposed to participate because you’re there and you’re signed up, but you lack the ability to do what everyone else is doing. For me, it’s hard to kind of
do something. I felt terrible because I couldn’t help lift or move things in the way that I normally would have, and Dan did so much of it himself. After taking carloads of stuff over every night last week, we thought Saturday would be simple. What a laugh! Nothing about Saturday was simple. From the moving truck company losing our reservation, to the box spring that wouldn’t fit up the stairs—scratching our freshly painted walls—to the discovery that one of the light fixtures had exposed wires, the day was filled with surprises and unexpected crises.
These items have been my closest companions the past few weeks.
But that’s all over now, and we are now all moved in! We’re moved in, and I’m exhausted. My feet have grown eight sizes. My hair has turned gray. But we’re moved in. There are boxes everywhere, and I can’t find my hair straightener. But we’re moved in.
The funny thing about this—and I use the word “funny” very loosely—is that I thought the move was the pinnacle of the to-do list. Unfortunately, that is not the case. Now that the actual move is complete, it seems my to-do list to get ready for baby has grown by 76 new items. Her nursery needs to be painted. We need to buy about 8,000 baskets to store all her stuff. She needs closet organizers! We must buy a rocker! My mind is going a mile a minute. With 10 weeks to go, the pressure is definitely on.
At one point during moving day, I thought to myself “Remember having fun? What was that like?
” It’s been so long since we’ve been carefree without a million things to do. My goal this week is to ignore the moving boxes for a short time and plan a fun activity that is unrelated to unpacking or decorating. Given my newly swollen feet, perhaps a shoe shopping trip is in order.