What's a house anyway?

When we first met with our realtor back in May, she took a look around the house and told us what to do before we put it on the market. The only painting she suggested was to cover the stripe in Andrew's nursery.

I can't do it. Maybe after we move and his little room is empty, his crib and his toys all packed up I'll be able to cover the stripe. But, for now, the thought of covering it up makes me feel very sad.

I waited so long to create his nursery. When I was pregnant I would sit in his room in the glider rocker and talk to him and sing to him and dream of the day when he would be a reality in my arms. His room is easily my favorite room in the house. We spend hours in there, playing and rocking and cuddling. The light blue paint color is called "subtle breeze" and it makes me think of the ocean and the sky.

This is the house we dared to dream that another round of IVF could work for us. It's the house where we mourned another failure. It's where we were when we decided for one last attempt -- an FET. I got my first inkling that it had worked when I took an HPT in our bathroom, snapping a photo of that nearly invisible pink line with my cell phone and sending it to Greg. It's the house where we rejoiced in our pregnancy and took that tenuous journey. It's the home that welcomed our sweet baby boy and where he has spent the first seven months of his life.

I have an emotional attachment to this house, despite the fact that I desperately want to leave Louisiana. I wish I could pick this house up like a turtle and move it right along with us. So many wonderful memories live here.

But, I tell myself, it's just a house. Memories live in your mind and heart, not in the four walls that make a house. Andrew will have other rooms and he will be happy no matter where we live. A house is just a house, right? Maybe this is a good luck house. Maybe the next people who live here will find a lot of joy, just as we did. A young couple came last night to take a second look at the house. Andrew was already sleeping for the night, so we couldn't leave. They are getting married in November and are buying their first home. Who knows, maybe this house will one day welcome home their new baby.

It's time for me to let go. But don't expect me to paint over that stripe.