Yesterday was our big moving day.

We got up early, packed up the animals and headed for moms.

My brother helped us move, as did Eric’s brother. My dad let us borrow his truck.
It could’ve been worse.

So here we are. By this morning, I’m already not loving being home. I love my family but I’d rather have my responsibilities AND my privacy.
Now I have not much of either.
I woke up, it was okay at first. It was a cozy, bed in a cozy bedroom with wall to wall carpeting, unlike our all hardwood apartment.
I checked my email, checked the weather, asked Eric to take the dog out. (Our dog still doesn’t get along very well with my mothers, so it’s an ordeal. Our dog sleeps in our room, her dog sleeps with her).
Of course, with the dogs, there was lots of howling and barking. My little brother didn’t like that. He cried and yelled.

Then my grandmother walked in the door.
All hell broke loose.

Eric went back to bed and everyone calmed down a little.
Mom made more coffee and us three women sat around chatting about life, and moving, and landlords.

I already miss walking around in my underwear, or nothing but my big fuzzy robe. Having free reign of the small, dinky apartment that we called our own.
Hopefully, this won’t last forever though.

I have some big news though, and I’m surprised that I’m not feeling so bad about it.

Yesterday, I had very few cramps.
On the way to our apartment for the 2nd or 3rd time I had what felt like the beginning of contractions, but it never progressed.
We were almost to the apartment when I felt sort of a bubble. I thought it was just blood that was about to gush out, but when I got out of the car, nothing happened.

I went into the bathroom. Still nothing.
I looked into the toilet to see if there was any blood. Then I saw it.
This big, grayish, translucent blob. Just hanging there.
I had to physically remove it.
It was appalling.
But once it happened I felt better.
I thought I would either feel great, knowing that it had finally happened or feel worse, seeing it for what it really was.
But I just feel peaceful.

By the end of the day yesterday I was feeling pretty down.
I had been having some clots throughout the day, not lots of blood or cramps.
I had finally passed what seems like the Big Show, I had moved out of my own, independent apartment where my boyfriend and I were starting and life and, at least for a little while, a family, in favor of my mothers home in my old bedroom where I have lived for the last 14 years.
Everything was conflicted. I’m still having mixed feelings.
I hope that I can adjust well. I’m tired of feeling crazy.


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