I never posted in detail about Oliver’s birth story because, well, I couldn’t. I had a bit of post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) from that experience. It involved losing the ability to breath due to too much epidural, thinking I was dying, not being sure how the heck they were going to get him out, and delivering a baby with so little body fat and jaundice it was insane. Okay, so now I’ve talked about it, almost 6 years later. Hurrah for trauma! (Callum’s birth was a walk in the park, comparatively speaking. Redeeming, really.)
Our house move is the latest thing we shall not speak of. Last weekend was quite…awful. I walked into work on Monday basically brain dead. My boss returned from bereavement leave giving ME sympathy. People kept asking me if I was okay, and I was vacant. I’m thinking I looked like this:
Except I hadn’t eaten any brains. My own brain had just been scrambled.
It wasn’t supposed to take 2 days and 3 truck trips. It wasn’t supposed to be a week later with furniture in the wrong rooms and not re-assembled. It wasn’t supposed to be that much work.
On Thursday night, I drove Mark and the kids to the airport for a long-planned trip to the UK and found myself much more emotional than ever before at saying goodbye to them – which, okay, may be partially blamed on pregnancy, but can mostly be attributed to ‘ohmygod how am I going to sort this house out by myself?’.
Thankfully, I’ve had some help. My parents, my brother and his girlfriend came over on Saturday and shifted so much stuff around that I finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. They were amazing. Other friends have stopped in, either to help or to entertain me.
It’s going to be fine, and of course I’ve known that all along – but seriously, that was rough. I will recover from my PTSD but it’s a little fresh right now. And it’s ensured that no matter what, this is a forever home. NEVER MOVING AGAIN.
“Welcome to Fawlty Towers and I would like to welcome you war, you war, YOU ALL and I hope your stay will be a happy one.”
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August 1st 2011 at 11:46 pm
Ok, we never have to speak about it….but if you need more help unpacking when I get back from BH? No problem, just email.
I almost got divorced last time I moved, so I understand.
August 2nd 2011 at 7:38 am
Sounds pretty brutal… Thank God you had some help. But please let me know if you need anything – would love to help.
August 5th 2011 at 11:50 am
I’m just stuck on the part where the husband and kids take off to the UK. Kind of sounds like a decent trade to me… Screw the boxes and furniture, take advantage of their absence and SLEEP.