It was often dark and cold… but the layout was huge. Our apartment is nothing like our house. Our house that we’d sold was bright and warm. this basement apartment is not. Our sold home had storage and three bedrooms, this only had two rooms.
The appeal in taking this apartment had nothing to do with how it looked, although at first glance it did appear to look pretty good, after my husband applied a coat of warm toned paint to it’s walls. I was glad for it because it had the space we needed to pour a house full of items into an apartment with no storage. Well, it did have storage, however the landlords had laid claim to that on our basement level. I was also glad for it because it contained a space to set up a bedroom. A child’s room. We had had a bedroom set up in every home we owned, just in case. At first it contained a maple crip with matching change table and simple chest of drawers. Everything was arranged perfectly in Classic Winni-the-pooh. I loved it. That was a very long time ago. In our house the child’s bedroom contained maple wood as well, however it had changed to a single bed with a head and foot board, very simply cut and assembled. The corner had a simple nightstand, bookcase to match and a small desk in the opposite corner. The third corner held the door while the fourth was graced with a slide rocking chair. To me it was perfect, waiting and ready.
So were we. This new apartment had the space for most of those bedroom items and I found myself setting this child’s room up for it’s soon to come friend.
All that is left is the home inspection and to wait, I told myself as I busied my hands. Our Children’s Aid Worker didn’t seem concerned as to the urgency of that inspection. We had passed with flying colors in our sold home and she was assured that we could bring a facility to safety compliance within a short period of time. Once again, we waited.
“Eight months and here we go again”, I said out loud to no one. I sighed as I began the packing once again to move. It had only been eight months in our not so new apartment. My husband had landed a new position in a new city and we had to relocate. My only hope was that possibly, quite possibly our child would be in this new city in this new County.
The country is beautiful even on a cold winter afternoon. My husband and I have found a restful place in this new home in the countryside. I have looked to perfect the very elements that would normally have thrilled me. This time setting up a child’s room has a heaviness to it now. These past months have revealed more delays and a sense of indifference in the agency we have applied to to adopt a child. I am weary of the wait and the news of more paperwork to update our file is both frustrating and understandable. There is opposition within my own heart as to whether there is still enough “wait” left in me.
After tme and conversation my husband and I have come to the conclusion that at this time in our lives, it’s time to let it go. We are not prepared to continue to wait and wait, putting everything on hold. We are moving forwardto close this chapter in our lives. We will live child-free.
So here we are at what seems to be the end of our journey… yet it is only the beginning. We have made the decision to be child free in our lives. It doesn’t mean that we are disliking children. We are choosing to take back our life again. It has been a painful decision, but a good one. We are both free to dream again… our lives are ours again. We are looking at the future from a brighter perspective.