This morning, our footsteps echoed and the kids' squeals bounced off of the empty walls as we walked from room to room, and then finally out, looking back, driving away the familiar route from a neighborhood that is no longer ours.
Today, we walked out of our first home for the last time.
And, as I think back to when we first bought our house seven years ago, right at the time we were getting married, I am reminded of all of the transformations have occurred in this home.
The transformation into a new wife... unsure about how to cook, how to keep a house running smoothly, how to budget properly, how to build a new family.
A first-time mother… who lived in a haze of postpartum blues for months, but who loved fiercely.
A grieving mother... The room that I rocked in for weeks, pumping milk I wasn't sure my baby would get to drink, staring into a closet full of pink and purple clothes that I wondered if she'd ever wear.
A thankful mother, an overwhelmed mother, a mother who celebrated and who cried - many times on the same day.
The walls that began as a blank slate and over the years, were filled with picture frames of a growing family - from wedding portraits to chubby babies to laughing children.
The bathroom where I saw 2 positive pregnancy tests, both changing nearly every piece of our lives and our hearts.
The rooms where we read and read, built forts, said prayers, and rocked, nursed and sang in the early morning hours when it felt like the entire rest of the world was sleeping.
The front door that became revolving - to friends coming to share our weekends and morning play dates, to family coming to love on our kids, and to therapists several times a week.
All of the events and all of these pieces of our home have changed me, molded me over the last 7 years, into the person and mother I am today.
And today, we will continue our transformations, in our new home, in our new town… Goodbye to our beloved first home.