A new house to call our own. My first house I have ever bought. If I think too much about it then I may panic slightly.
I am sad to leave this rented house. It has been a good house, full of lovely memories. It’s the only house we’ve rented. Before this, we had a basement flat that was riddled with damp. Everything we owned was covered in black mould.
I’d just had my ectopic pregnancy when we were given notice to leave that flat. The mould taking over the walls were a representation of my mind; black and dark and cold.
The moment I saw this house, I was happy. The sun shone and daffodils were in the garden. The first time I’d felt happy for a while. The relief to leave that flat, where something so horrible had happened, was overwhelming.
I have lived in this house. I have found out I was pregnant in this house. I have brought my newborn baby to this house. I have cried, and laughed and had late night baby feeding cuddles in this house.
I will miss this house. This home that is the first that Bubs has ever known. I find it odd that she will never remember this house. This house where so much has happened for me, and for her.
So, on to pastures new. Our own home, secure, safe and a place to decorate how I like. A garden, a garage, and best of all a DISHWASHER. It’s going to change my life. It’s a brand new house, we will be the first people to impart our memories into its walls.
I can only imagine what fun we will have here. What the future lies in store. I can’t believe I have a place now all of my own. A place for us as a family. Our house, on our street.