As the summer as flown swiftly by, and my swelling belly has filled up with kicking baby boy, it’s been hard to focus on much more than feeling pregnant and running after a toddler. All the same, the hubby and I have been desperately seeking to buy a house for our quickly expanding family.
We live in a small, two bedroom apartment, in an area where the housing market has exploded – sadly with buyers, and not so much with sellers – and a lack of inventory is sending prices through the roof. To make things extra fun, an increasingly desperate and ever expanding circle of buyers is not only sending prices soaring, they are throwing in cash offers, making bids averaging $50 -75,000 over asking (despite each home already being listed high) waiving inspections, and basically offering up their soul to sellers in exchange for a house.
We’ve now lost 5 houses since April, all in fruitless bidding wars, and we’ve basically hit the end of our search and the end of our patience; especially with my due date fast approaching and no apparent end to the feeding frenzy.
It has been a stressful, emotional roller coaster, and being pregnant has not made it any more fun. I have cried – well wept really – and not just over lost homes, but over lost dreams, and lost special time with my family. Just about every weekend of our summer has been spent running through house tours with a very miserable little Bean, followed up by a stressful 24-48 hour period of debating homes (all offers due by Monday or Tuesday at 5pm) and whether or not to put in an offer, fretting over how much to bid, writing heartfelt letters to home owners, complete with brightly colored photographs, making our offers, and waiting…waiting…waiting for disappointment.
It has been awful, stressful, fruitless, disappointing, frustrating, nerve-wracking, depression inducing, and all around miserable. We’ve missed taking Bean on so many summertime adventures that we’d planned – now, while she is still the only baby – and that is time we can never get back.
Mulling over my feelings on all this, I realized that in a strange way it has been like going through a microcosm of infertility all over again…not as severe an emotional ride to be sure, but certainly one filled with many similar emotions: anxiety, loss, mourning, stress, frustration, heartache, anger, depression, sadness, a lack of control, bitterness, and a general sense of feeling stuck
Every week we ride the ride…Wednesday new postings start rolling out, Thursday more come, and by Friday I have my spreadsheet of homes to see all ready. Saturday, I’m pumped to start, planning how to most effectively utilize the small window of open house times, figuring out how best to work around Simran’s nap schedule (usually the only option is to let her get so tired she falls out in the car, and then tag-team it through the open houses), and making sure everyone has enough food and snacks to get them through the afternoon. By Sunday, I’m already feeling disenchanted, tired, pessimistic and ready to be done. Monday and Tuesday are a whirlwind of back and forth conversations with our agent, my parents, my husband, and Google. Then, there is the inevitable call from the agent…the one where he calls to tell me once again how close we came, but there was “just this one offer that blew the sellers away”. It is like a condensed monthly cycle and TWW, followed by a that miserable single line staring you in the face…over and over.
Once I made the connection to my infertility journey, I started to think that maybe this is just the way it has to be for us for now. After all, the road to Bean was terrible, but it also brought our marriage to a more intimate place than it had ever been, and made Sho and me all the more ready to be parents. We learned so much along the way about ourselves, and our relationship, and when Bean finally came to be, it was like this perfect aligning of the stars…everything fell into place and then we were blessed with this amazing little human being to call our own. Maybe, it will be that way for our first home too.
In the meanwhile, we have big plans to spend the next 8 weeks (while the weather holds and I can still walk) enjoying each other, enjoying Bean, enjoying our weekends, making our apartment as clutter free and functional as we can get it, and just being a family of three before #four makes his grand entry into the world.