Selah

Sometimes there is so much to say, a mountains of facts, updates and information, and words in my head are poetry while the ones leaking from my fingers onto the keypad remind me, well, of the smelly wet dog that is curled up by my hip at this very moment.

I could be deep, and tell you something meaningful, like maybe the ‘why’ of why we are moving to America, and how much this means to us. But that would involve more backstory, and I just don’t have it in me for now. Maybe I’ll tell you. Maybe. But suffice it to say that I am relieved, lighter since we sealed the decision. It was a long one to take – over a year of talking about the yeahs and what ifs while obsesso-analyzing every possible impact that moving now or waiting to do it later could have on our tiny lives. This was very difficult for me, but I thinl for some reason that MB needed to do it that way. He’s never made such a move. I’m the one who would rather do something she’s never talked about than to talk about something she’ll never do, so the decision making process was, obviously, quite breaking.

It’s bittersweet, I’ll have ya know, as moving means declaring the official (at least momentary) abandon of our pursuits - pursuits that have been among the most frequent and self indulgent here on the blog. 

Moving means giving up the French health care system and thus, the infertility treatments which cost us nothing (at least financially). It means facing the fact that we are, or rather I am, not ready to get back in the saddle, er, stirrups for the time being. It means facing weakness, and admitting that I’m just a bit sensitive in that area, and I’m not the girl that can have a gazillion doctors eyeing and sticking things into her woman parts without having it mess her head up.

Leaving here also means that we will not be pursuing adoption here in France, for now. We started the process, but it was tearing and half-hearted as we faced the reality of what was entailed with pursuing this little dream. Adopting here means five to seven years of waiting, which means at best I would be just under forty (yikes !) before our life could continue in the direction our hearts were leading us. Yes, children are wonderful, adopting is wonderful, and it is not without disappointment that we decided to live out on desire and sacrifice another.

As for the house, we’re actively renovating, the turkey’s armpit is starting to look like something, rock walls and all. It’s hard, and we just want to leave, but we need money to move so the better the house looks, the better it will be for us. The plan is that we spend the summer in piles of hammers, paint and dust, so that in September we can put it on the market.

We asked Yuki what he thought about all of this. He didn’t say much, just gave us this look.