Infertile minds and the art of real estate

The Kitchen Sink.

A blog by Stephanie Wagner.

I have been wondering lately if there was a lesson that I missed at some point in another lifetime, and I am being given multiple “opportunities” to learn it this time. Or perhaps, our trajectories are always just repeating patterns of changing events that reflect the same emotions over and over.

Someone recently said to me in conversation about the sale of our current house, “Relax.  It will happen… It always does eventually.”  Which is sage and probably true advice – unless you have been through the roller coaster of infertility and adoption.

I recognize a new home is nowhere near the life changing event that parenting is.  However, this time around, it has been almost that difficult of a decision.

As with In Vitro, then adoption, we started with the dream.  We made our list of what we wanted – the open spaces, newer finishes, updated kitchen. Big master bath.  Enough property for a barn someday.  Wood floors would be a bonus.  More points for a great layout.  Water would just be the icing on the proverbial cake.

We couldn’t believe it when we actually found it.  Then the reality hit.  The big decisions – could we afford it?  Was it worth the short term sacrifices to get a great long term gain?  Could we commit to living in the same place for the next 15 years minimum?

Next, the evaluation of our energy reserves –  Do we have the emotional energy to handle the stresses of living with the unknown for a period of time, then the transitions that will follow if we are successful?  Do we have the time it will take to get our current home into shape, keep it clean, balance already overfull work and school schedules with showings?

And what about the disappointment that might follow if we weren’t able to sell our current house, or worse, having the owners of “our” new house receive a better offer while we wait in limbo?

Friends and family are reassuring – we have heard multiple times in the past few weeks how great our house is, and that of course it will sell.

And yet, there is a nagging voice in the back of my mind that answers every time someone says, “It will happen.  Sometimes it just takes time…”  We have heard those words before, too many times to count from too many people.  And that time, it never did happen.

Obviously, there was another plan, and it was better than we could have ever imagined at the time.  We ended up with two of the most amazing children – we joke that they are stronger than the creation of our shaky genetic pool.  And still, that journey was an uphill struggle almost all the way.

One thing about infertility – it changes your view on everything , even houses. Naively, I used to believe things always work out in the end.  And I suppose, they do, eventually.  Just not necessarily the way you thought they would.

This house is like that for me.  It is a dream – an exciting and wonderful dream – and one which I am not quite ready to believe will actually work out.  I find myself slipping into old territory lately – making spiritual bargains, buying random good luck charms, and wanting to hide the facts of my fears.  I think happy thoughts so  karma doesn’t bite me, and I go to sleep visualizing the easy sale and closing of both houses.

My anxiety about my anxiety keeps me awake at night, and saps my energy during the day.  Cognitively, I try to revisit the lessons we learned on the road to parenting.

It seemed like forever, with the longest trek when we were on the wrong path.  Once we moved on, our world opened up and it was just a very short wait for each of our babies.  When it was time, it was time – and we couldn’t have stopped that momentum no matter how hard we tried.  Now, I can’t imagine my life any other way.

The lesson for me is to trust.  The doors will open when it is time, and no amount of pushing will make them open any sooner.  We will be taken care of, and all will be exactly as it should be.  I need a reminder every once in a while that my needs are not central to the universe, and there may be many other things that need to fall in place for others before I get consideration.

And – fortunately – we have a beautiful safe home that has sheltered us for the last 9 years, and will continue to until its new owners are ready.  For that, we are lucky indeed.