After. Same time of day, same light, different quality. Still not done, it will get better.
So the week of the move I had, just had to get sick. I pushed past it for the entirety of a morning before succumbing to the awful illness. For two days I stayed in bed, I slept for hours at a time. In and out of awareness. I managed to tend the kids with spurts to the kitchen and back to bed. Of course the kids enjoyed extra tv and lots of alone play time. It was Thursday before the virus began to transform into a secondary sinus infection. No problem for me, I got this. As a sufferer of chronic sinus infections I knew I could at least function. And of course, we had saved almost all the packing for that week, being utterly consumed with remodeling before then. Friday we packed. Or rather I packed, and rested, and packed, and rested.
Saturday morning it was clear that I was entering a third infection located in my chest. My voice all but disappeared as help arrived and we loaded our house into the truck. My chest hurt, breathing was shallow and painful, and I was having a hard time hearing due to the sinus infection (fish bowl syndrome I call it). We loaded until around noon and traveled to the new house to unload. We unloaded and ate lunch. Our help, beautiful helpers left. Nick and I returned to the old house and loaded 2/3rds of the garage into the truck. We picked up the kids from our awesome friends house and had dinner with a few friends/helpers and went home to spend the night at our new house.
Whew! Sunday morning help arrived to load the remaining garage items and than we were off to unload at the new house. Then to lunch and then I collapsed. My voice was a labored whisper with spurts of sound.
This week we have been setting up the house, unpacking, and taking the kids to and from school and school events. T has 5 field trips in a week and a half!
Mid week, Nick finally caught what I had. He has missed work for two days and today he slept for 8 hours during the day.
The other day I slipped on the stairs, my left hand was in my back pocket fishing for a lost item and leaving me helpless to catch myself. As I flailed wildly with my right arm to catch something I slammed my back, rear, and neck into the steps as I bounced to a stop near the bottom. Ow. I admit, I cried. The house bit back. A nasty rug burn on my arm, bruises, and a few sore bones are recovering.
It is kinda poetic. Sorta how I feel emotionally.......slammed.
I am feeling like I have a few post traumatic move issues and need to get it all out. We are so happy and joyous to be in our new home. It will be the best thing for us. The daily walks/bike rides to the kids schools have been heavenly. The help we received was phenomenal. My friends gave more than they could give and I am still in shock/awe at how much gratitude I feel. We slammed this move together and so many wonderful friends were there to make it happen for us. I am swimming in emotion. Sadness for leaving our house/home, years of torturous unknowing, stress over the time frame which with we had to remodel and move, stress over what is on hand, extreme overwhelming gratitude and appreciation for my life, my house, my friends, my family, my children, my husband, life.
I am sure this one is gonna take a while to heal.
