Last night, we learned that we lost out on an updated, spacious home with loads of storage and a dry basement that was also within walking distance to one of the best elementary schools in the city. I sure hope our opponent won due to a sizable difference in their bid.
When I saw the text from our Realtor that simply read, “I’m sorry but they took the other offer” I immediately felt betrayed, angry and just generally frustrated. Part of my betrayal stemmed from the hope that had begun to grow inside of me. I had already started imagining our future happiness in the home. I was angry because I had wasted my time (and my HR manager’s) frantically trying to gain access to my online ADP account that wouldn’t allow me to login. Our lender needed 2 months worth of pay stubs to work out the numbers and the listing agent had set a rigid deadline for any/all offers to be submitted. When we wrote up the offer within minutes of the deadline, I was committing to more than just the physical property. I was attaching us to the street and the community. I had already convinced myself that our children's future best friends all lived on the same block. My frustration was really about not wanting to start the whole process over again.
This wasn’t the first time we lost out on a home deal either. Back in January, we had made an offer on an even larger home with 5 bedrooms and 3 full baths. It definitely needed more work but the layout was perfect. It was located on Minnehaha Street. Now, I call it Minneboohoo Street.
When I overindulged on pineapple pizza last night while I watched the Mad Men season finale, I thought, “I am feeling some of the very same emotions tonight as I did back when I was facing infertility!”
I wanted to shout, “Why can’t you just let us buy a house?” UGH!!! I’m not really sure who, you is but I am damn mad at him/her!
The source of my internal anxiety is no longer fueled by my biological clock ticking; now it's tied to the ever-rising interest rates. Instead of sending exasperated emails to my fertility nurses/doctors, they now go to our ill-fated Realtor. My new shopping distraction is purchasing Judy Collins, John Denver, Jim Croce and Joni Mitchell songs on iTunes. Apparently, I find solace in songwriters whose first names start with the letter ‘J’. (Ok that realization just struck me. ‘J’ names were obviously very popular in the 1960’s.) I have racked up about $100 on my iTunes account just today.
Don't misunderstand me; purchasing a home can't compare to starting/building a family. My only point is that some of my old infertility wounds have been opened up during our home buying process; it reminds me of the depression I used to feel when I realized that we were back at square one. If you are anything like I was when I was desperately trying to become a mother, you may feel a pang of envy whenever you learn of others good baby fortune. Now, I definitely feel a sense of inequity every time I'm informed that we lost the chance to own a home to which I felt we were entitled. Deep down, you and I both know that the winners are probably just as deserving as we are though. Sadly, that knowledge doesn't take away the sting.
As I listen to these beautiful songs and put my thoughts to paper, I'm gaining important perspective. I realize that finding a great home in the right neighborhood would be nice but all I really need are my sweet and crazy children. I am sure you would trade any/all of your beautiful monetary things for a healthy child. I will keep thinking good thoughts for you. While you are waiting, have a listen to the Judy Collins station on Pandora. It's pretty great!