So here we are in Brooklyn—about eighty percent unpacked and variously installed, and about seventy-five percent feeling like this is home. I promised myself I wouldn’t make excuses for breaches in my three-post-per-week blogging strategy, so I’m not going to do that. However, I think it’s important to post a recap of the past few weeks because pregnancy has been the impetus of a lot of the changes we’ve been through.
A week ago, John and I (and Peanut, of course) moved to Prospect Heights. After a few weeks of apartment searching and broker negotiating, we found a place in a great location and in a building with an elevator, which means John’s dad can finally come visit us.
A few weeks doesn’t sound like much, but for comparison’s sake, when John and I found our first apartment, we looked at ten apartments in one night and submitted our instantly-approved application for the one we wanted the next day. It was really quite painless.
While thankfully we still don’t have much to complain about, this time around was more complicated. I felt much more confident looking for a one-bedroom apartment last year for just the two of us than I did searching for a two-bedroom this year for the three of us. It was the same kind of thing as shopping for maternity clothes, but on a whole new level: how does one choose which shirt/dress/apartment is going to fit a body/lifestyle she’s never experienced before? We planned things out as best we could, and in these situations two heads are definitely better than one. But as little idea as I had of how my body would respond to carrying this child, so little do I know now about what our day-to-day will look like when little Peanut is out and about in the world.
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I don’t think I’ve ever felt as much like an adult as I have these past few weeks. Though we haven’t hit our first anniversary yet, we have an old and a new apartment. We have a crib set up in the nursery (no mattress yet, but all in good time). We’ve spent the last two weeks ordering appliances and scheduling installation services.
Living together as just two people these past ten months sometimes still kind of felt like college. Although John wasn’t merely my roommate, of course, we were doing things—laundry, grocery shopping, travel planning—for just the two of us. Now this little one is on our minds with every decision we make. As confusing as it can be, it’s also really exciting. Because we’re not just a couple anymore. We’re a family. And I’m pretty sure that’s the greatest blessing on this entire planet.
As we unpack these last few boxes, install our fabulous new curtains, and try to figure out how in the world one puts together a baby swing, we’ll be that much closer to this place feeling like home. And the day we bring that little one back here, I think it finally will.
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