I’ve been thinking about memories a lot lately. I guess it makes sense with not only a recent death in the family, but also my baby’s first birthday coming up, and our house move. Understand, I’ve moved 20-something times in my life, so moving is no big deal to me. This move, however, is. Apart from the fact that the two years we have stayed here has been the longest my husband and I have stayed anywhere, this is also where my daughter was born. Right here. In the kitchen. I feel a great sadness leaving this house.
This is the bathroom, where I peed on three sticks and burst into tears. I had peed on probably 50 sticks in my adult life and never seen that second line. It is also the toilet I spent four months on my knees in front of as I was sick up to 20 times in one day. It is the toilet I sat in front of doing figure of eight’s on a birthball while I wrote a letter to my at that point nameless, sexless child through contractions. It’s next to the bath where she had her first bath. It now houses a little potty next to it which she uses. It is also the bathroom my sister redecorated for me for Christmas.
This is the kitchen where my little girl came in to the world in the most peaceful, beautiful birth I could ever have dreamed of. It is the kitchen where she first suckled on my breast, where she first looked in my eyes, where she first made her daddy cry. It is the kitchen where I have cooked all our meals, nourished our bodies and discovered organic foods. It is the kitchen where I lovingly washed and hung all the gifted clothes and blankets from friends and family.
This is the bed where I spent a large part of my pregnancy. It is the bed where my daughter had her first nappy put on. It’s the bed where we first lay down as a family and slept through the night. The only night we’ve slept through since her birth. It’s the bed where we co-sleep and it’s the bed where we’ve dealt with her teething, her fevers and her early morning waking. Conspicuously, it’s not where she was conceived – that was on a weekend away!
This is the lounge where I practiced yoga through the pregnancy. It’s the lounge where we’ve lain on the sofa as a couple, where we dreamt of our future, talked of the life to come, watched the baby kick. It’s the lounge where we had most of our midwives visits. It’s the lounge where we have entertained friends and family. It is the lounge where we celebrated my daughter’s first Christmas and soon will celebrate her first birthday. It is the lounge where we watched her crawl for the first time and the lounge where we watched her walk for the first time.
My inlaws may be moving soon too, so in their home there is more we have to say good bye to:
The bed where my daughter spent her first night away from home at four days old.
The shower where she had her first shower at five days old.
These are the memories, no, these are just some of the places where the memories were made, and I am sad. I am sad to leave them behind. I know the future is bright and I know there are many more memories to make, but right now, today, this moment, I am sad for the part of my life that I am, that we are, leaving behind.
Show me where some of your memories were made. I’d love to see a little more of your world too. Leave a comment with your link if you’d like to share!