I've been looking forward to moving house for a long time. Some friends of ours moved into a lovely apartment almost two years ago and I immediately knew I wanted to join them. Unfortunately we had only just resigned our 12-month lease, so we had a long wait ahead. When our next opportunity rolled around, they served us with new papers earlier than expected, and the location Dave's new job assignment was in question, so we opted to wait another year. The move was now scheduled for next April. I was really looking forward to being closer to friends, closer to Dave's work, closer to the free dog park, in a prettier apartment with a double sink in the kitchen, long counters in the bathroom, a gym and a pool. (Our current apartment lacks both the gym and the pool, the gym being the more attractive prospect of the two.)
The de-cluttering began in earnest. We were going to paint the walls, buy new furniture, replace the glass on the dining room table. There was a whole list of exciting things that would happen "after we move." One of those things was going to be trying for another pregnancy. It seemed silly not to at least give it a shot after all the probings and scannings and surgical corrections we had done.
But you know what they say: location, location, location. As much as I wanted to just move and be done, in the end I couldn't reconcile moving away from my current doctor. It's not that I'm particularly attached to her, but both my PCP and my OBGYN are in the same building, and that building is just a few minutes up the street we live on now. The hospital is a ten-minute drive down the road and through a neighborhood. If we're going to attempt another high-risk pregnancy, it doesn't make sense to move away from this incredibly convenient set-up we have here.
So, I mourned the move for about a day. Then I bought (and built) new furniture and painted the walls. I rearranged everything in the living room and the bedroom. I made pillow covers and new table linens. A large piece of glass will be procured to keep them nice. The thought of possibly being pregnant, miserable and couch-ridden soon made me want to do all the heavy lifting now. In the meantime, we've given up our semi-celibate lives, so we'll see what happens.
Pictures of the new decor to follow, just the "afters" because I forgot to take "befores." Regardless of whether the pregnancy works out or not, I love our new blue walls.