Waylon Drive

I get weirdly sentimental about things. Not the normal things. The arbitrary things. Like The Office series finale, or saying goodbye to the boys' NICU nurse, or my doctor telling me he's moving away. I guess I just chalk it up to being a lover & having attachments to the people, including Jim & Pam, who walk in & out of my life.

Yesterday was another one of those weird attachment/goodbyes. My best friend is moving. No, not away. To another city that is maybe 5 minutes farther than her current city. Now, I didn't cry or anything, but I felt the pang of nostalgia as we took pictures in the house. The house holds special memories of curling each other's hair, drinking cold beers, and eating donuts while watching Ellen.

K - we ate A LOT of donuts at your house. No wonder we're getting chunky. Not that you are.

Two of my favorite memories involve my boys. In early September last year, I was dog sitting their incredible Labradoodle, Monty. I had borrowed Scott's truck for a bridal show earlier in the day, so I was bringing it back to the house that night. It was the first month on fertility drugs & I was riding the emotional rollercoaster of waiting to find out if it had worked or not. I walked into the garage, took a cold beer out of the fridge, sat down on the couch in the living room, called Kylie & sobbed into the phone. I knew it hadn't worked. It was another month in a long line of months without getting pregnant. She calmed me down enough to convince to run upstairs & take one her emergency pregnancy tests. True friendship is peeing on a stick while talking on the phone. I waited the mandatory 2 minutes, wiped tears off my face, looked at the test & said, "Oh...well...it's positive." I quickly went back downstairs & replaced the unopened beer in the fridge.

The whole middle part of this story was spent in a bed. I'm sure you've heard it before. {There was another fun memory of showing up to Kylie's house with my ultrasound picture, which showed that I was having twins. Her poor cousin was introduced to a very foul-mouthed, terrified, twin-mom-to-be that night. Sorry about that, Seany.}

On May 8, I was the size of a barn, Maddie was with Grammy & Papa, & I was restless. I told Josh I was going to Kylie's for a while. I was hoping that being in the house where I found out I was pregnant would somehow help my water break - she made me sit on the floor. I sat & chatted with Scott & Kylie for about 2 hours before giving up & going home. That night was fitful. I contracted all night. I woke up contracting. I had just a few hours to get these boys out before Kylie was leaving for a trip & could potentially miss their births. But we were in luck. The house worked. The boys were born just a few short hours later, my best friend sitting next to me, while I mouth-breathed in recovery.

Yesterday, I took the boys & placed them in the same spot I sat on the floor. The house is not magical, but it has memories. Special memories. Sentimental memories. I will never forget the night I found out I was pregnant with what I thought was one baby. Or the time I sat stunned beyond words, well, beyond words that weren't 4 letters in length, with the knowledge that I was having TWO babies. Or the night that I spent waiting for these boys to arrive, willing them to come out before Auntie KyKy left.

The new house will hold new memories. My kids will play there with her kids. We'll have donuts & brunches. We'll laugh, we'll cry, we'll watch The Bachelor. But the old house will always be special to me.