Moving while pregnant is really hard. I don’t mean physically, though yeah, I’d rather be resting a bit more, I mean the whole uprooting our life for parts unknown thing. For me at least, be pregnant makes me value my connections more highly, I want reaffirmation that friends and family are there for me, I want to focus on my relationships and my nest. In this case, I’d achieved my dream: 10 years after college I was back in New England, had a life mate, a kid, a piece of paradise all my own with ducks, the cats, veggie gardens and all sorts of wild edibles, a comfortable little house all baby proofed with every comfort I could want and all set for number 2. Now as I write the comic about buying our little house I’m in the process of selling. All the wonderful kitchen tools I’d been given as wedding presents, that I thought I’d have until they wore out are now being given away at break neck speed. All the wonderful baby gifts I’d put aside for number 2, the cosleeper, the excellent swingy chair…I’m instead giving away. I don’t have the time or energy to sell things and moving is expensive on its own without calculating in all the presents that we will now have to replace out of pocket. We’re going to be in temp housing for a month while our good possessions are shipped via container and will be under time constraints to find a rental, so wherever we stay the first year will probably be less than ideal. I’m going to have to make an entirely new mommy co-worker network and I’m leaving behind all these plans and ambitions for things I was going to do on the South Shore of Boston. It’s hard. On the upside, there will be so many new adventures there and culturally I really think it’s going to be a net win. So, no, my children won’t get to see humming birds eating at the feeder at the window, but apparently you can make little homes for the endangered European hedgehogs and I’ll get to see lemmings in the wild!