My partner’s due date is in two weeks. Things are starting to happen though, and we both doubt she’ll make it another week. But really, with the way this pregnancy has gone, it would just make sense that the twins’ arrival would conflict with the two house closings scheduled for Friday—one to sell our house and another to buy our new one. It would be the perfect climactic twist to the many unexpected, need to happen now, life changing events that our twin boys created since we learned we were expecting multiples.
We muddled through cold and flu season, in which my partner, Amy, and our daughter, Eva, were always sick. I’m convinced that my ability to drink alcohol kept me germ free. Amy and I even got a night out when she needed an overnight stay at the hospital. Yeah, dehydration! I slept in a chair most of the night, but I didn’t have a child waking me.
We put our house on the market and survived the emotionally and logistically exhausting process of showing it while trying to live everyday life with a toddler. The day we accepted an offer on the house was the day I vowed to never clean again. That vow lasted about 12 minutes, but at least I was cleaning because I wanted to and not because I had to.
More importantly, I was able to start nesting. Sort of. I was not able to set up a room for the boys, stocking it with clothes and cute baby things like I did for Eva, but I was able to was start projects that could be left in messy, unfinished phases. I refinished old furniture for the boys’ room. I painted a bookshelf for Eva’s new room, and I converted a tall bookshelf into a bench with cubbies. We have most everything we will need for the boys, however, it’s all in bins and piles, waiting to be put where it belongs in the new house.
Timing, karma, and a loan from the Bank of Mom and Dad allowed us to make an offer on a house we think will be our next perfect home. We are moving across the street—literally, across the street. One of the hardest parts about moving was going to be leaving our neighborhood and neighbors. And while it turns out we are not leaving our awesome neighborhood, our already nervous and confused two-year-old is about to become really confused when we are no longer allowed to go into what she has always known as her house.
It’s hard enough to explain to a child that they are allowed to look at something and not touch it. I think it’s going to be hard on all of us to adjust to a new place that is a stone’s throw away from what has been so safe and comfortable, especially to our daughter. How am I going to explain that home is no longer home, even though it’s right there? And how am I going to explain why those strangers are in our house?
Introducing Eva to the minivan was met with resistance, but since she thinks the doors that open with the touch of a button are magic, she is cool with her new ride. I will just need to find something magical about the new house to keep her from camping on our old lawn.
We have survived some meltdowns and dumpster fires along the way, but we never took for granted the good health of our twins. We were nervous when Amy started to dilate at 29 weeks, but the boys have stayed put, getting bigger and stronger every day. Without many restrictions, she has made it to nearly 36 weeks and I am proud of her and grateful for the health of all three of them. Amy’s body has held all of my most important heartbeats: hers, Eva’s, and those still echoing in her belly.
We are far from being done, and in many ways are just beginning our journey, but in one week we will have moved and the anticipation, stress, and planning of the event will be over. And we will be a week away from meeting our boys. Maybe.