It’s been five years since the flood. This morning as I sit feeding my baby, listening to the noise machine, I can finally say I’m whole again. I am healed. The rain I’m hearing from the noise machine does not make me nervous as all other rains have. I am no longer “homeless” living with my dad. My family has grown as I had always hoped.
It’s been a very crazy 12 months since the last flood post. In April 2018, I was pregnant with our little man. I was not sharing the news for fear that this pregnancy would end just as the previous three had. We had bought our new house but were still completing renovations. We were still living with my dad and his two little pups. We were running back and forth to the hospital to be at my mother-in-law’s bedside as she fought to stay with us. Great Grandma was still here doing her daily QVC shopping. In this 12 months, we may have had more changes than any other. And for so many of those months, we were still in a holding pattern.
You cannot sugarcoat this. For the most part, this year was shit. We lost dear loved ones than any family should and that always makes any year overwhelmingly sad. But there were bright spots. George joined our little family and we finally moved into our dream house. We made that house into a home. McKenna has grown and learned so much in these last 12 months. Shes a wonderful big sister to her little brudder. Aaron and I finally feel settled after years of feeling lost. That chapter of FEMA and Village Board meetings is behind us. The old house has been torn down for quite some time. Driving past it the other day, we just saw green space. There’s no driveway. There’s not even an address anymore. It’s like that part of our lives has been erased.
We are so very happy with the life we have now but still saddened for the life that could have been. But now, the slate has been wiped clean and the possibilities are endless. We have finally made it through to the other side.
Some before and after photos of our labor of love. 😍😍🏠