House of {Unfinished} Dreams

September 30, 2013

Remember Anne’s (of Green Gables) House of Dreams? The one where she and Gilbert settle in and have all kinds of wonderful memories and she cries leaving it because she loved it so much?

We left our old home today for the last time. It’s not far from the new one, but we won’t probably ever drive by again since it’s on an off the beaten path street. We spent the past week moving things over and cleaning up. 2 years and 3 months is a long time for us to have lived somewhere, and it’s the only home Bella remembers.

We walked in today to meet the woman doing the move out inspection, and I leaned against the wall and looked around like I have so many times. So many memories.

Where we moved in at 108* every day only to discover the carpet padding was soaked in cat pee that took us weeks of cleaning to get out. 

Where we celebrated Bella turning 2.

Where I was pregnant with Preston and Julian. 

Where I became a work at home mom. 

Where I came home with empty arms. 

Where we welcomed the home study social worker in for our adoption. 

Where we learned we weren’t going to be able to adopt yet. 

Where we celebrated Bella turning 3. 

Where I found out I was pregnant with Kaden.

Where we prayed over Bella’s bed each night for all of our children. 

Where we came home with empty arms again. 

Where we truly learned what it meant to be a family. 

I can’t think of another time there was so much life – lived and unlived – in another home of ours.

I won’t really miss that home. We made it into a space that was ever so comfortable and cozy (and clean). But it wasn’t ever truly home. It was just a place we lived that held both immensely happy and sad times. It became a pain to take care of, and most of it was spent with me being sick, sad, or pregnant. I’m not angry or bitter – it was simply a place we lived for those intense years. I keep hoping this new home won’t hold the same amount of pain in it’s time with us, and even more joy than that one did. It felt like we never truly completed a part of our life living there.

Leaving today, I turned back and looked at it again only to think, “That was my little house of so many unfinished dreams.”




  • caitlinmfrost

    October 3, 2013 at 11:02 am

    i can’t imagine what you’re going through, nor will i try. i’ll only say that i hope this new house is one of finished dreams, whatever they may be, and that you’ll find solace in your heavenly father, your heavenly home, as you make this earthly house a home.

    and even though we’ve never met, i’ve been praying for you for a while. 🙂

  • Karmen Elizabeth Smith

    September 30, 2013 at 10:39 pm

    Well said, sincerely felt. I was at The Influence Network Conf this weekend and was in awe of the grace that oozed out of you as you spoke. My heart broke all over again as I relived the loss of our little darlings. Samuel at 17 weeks and Karson at 24 weeks. I recognized the peace that surpasses all understanding as you spoke. Thank you for sharing your heart. KNow that you are loved and prayed for by many <3 Wishing you all the best in this new chapter of life.
    with love, Karmen

  • Debbie Fisher

    September 30, 2013 at 4:10 pm

    I lost 2 sets of babies. A long time ago, but painful, still. God blessed me with a wonderful daughter and son. We will be reunited one day with those lost. I busied myself with the children who were living and it has been a wonderful journey. Now, there are grandchildren to remind me of laughter once heard and unheard. Life isn’t easy, but we had to make it the best possible for our living children. You will find the strength to pick yourself up and move forward. That is how your family will thrive. Prayers.

  • Mylene

    September 30, 2013 at 3:39 pm

    I still think of you and your family on a daily basis. I hope, with all of my heart, that this new home brings you more joy and less sadness. Sending you lots of love from Canada!

  • Janet Neal

    September 30, 2013 at 9:06 pm

    Read Ann Voskamps blog today. It helped me and it might help you. Pain is so hard and so numbing and so life changing. And it can be life giving. I am so so sorry for your pain, for your tears, for your numbness, for all of it.

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