Moving into your own house - a new beginning

We moved last weekend. Everything feels strange. Somehow everything is still new, not at home. I am melancholy and yet also full of anticipation.

But slowly... I'll start a little earlier.

When we moved into our apartment during my first pregnancy, this apartment was a dream for us. It was cheap, which was important because we were both still in the middle of our education. And it was practical, even having one more room than we needed. It was an attic apartment, but that didn't bother us.

It was our first apartment together. It was clear to us at that time that we wanted to live there until the end of our training and then look for something else. I don't know why, but this apartment was only a transitional apartment for us from the beginning. I can't say exactly why it was so clear to us, but we waited to buy a new sofa, we waited to make so many purchases until we would no longer live there.

So we didn't expect that the planned two years would eventually turn into more than six years. But somehow the right time never came. Or not the right apartment, not the right house. But we weren't really looking.

We finally planned to look for and buy a house together with my dad, with an apartment for him and a separate part for us. But we wanted to take our time, everything should fit then. And some preparations had to be made.

My dad still had to sell his house, my brother had to find an apartment, we had to clarify a possible financing, ... So many things that did not speak for a timely house purchase and could have taken several years. Especially since the house search in Oldenburg and the surrounding area is not exactly easy and cheap.

But then we learned through a friend of a house on the outskirts of Oldenburg with an apartment upstairs, a large garden, a background piece, somehow affordable and without a broker. That sounded good and we arranged a viewing appointment.

We liked the house right away. Just not the way it was right now. It was full, very full. But it would all eventually be gone. It wouldn't be ours. It was just a little hard to imagine without all the furniture, without all the stuff that was lying and standing everywhere.

We agreed, we wanted this house. Only we couldn't decide that on our own. My dad had to agree too, he had to like it too. But it's not so easy with viewing appointments when he lives over 400km away.

Fortunately, he wanted to visit us a month later anyway and so we could arrange the joint viewing for this date.

(Now I had a somewhat longer break from writing at this point, because there was a lot going on here and I often lacked the strength and desire to still write in the evenings. Nevertheless I would like to describe chronologically further. Even though we have moved a while ago, I will still write about my feelings and thoughts that I had before and during the move. So it goes on...)

I couldn't be there during the second viewing, where my dad was present, because I had to work. I was a little tense and nervous about what he would say. After all, we would never be able to afford the house on our own and it was also the plan that we were going to buy something together. Consequently, a lot depended on whether my dad would agree and whether he would like the house as much as we did.

Fortunately, my dad was very taken with it. He saw some things that still needed to be done. But a lot of things actually had time and in order to be able to move in, "only" renovations would have to be done first. Before we discussed anything else with the seller, we went on vacation. At least I needed it urgently.

On vacation we discussed a lot about the house, we clarified what was important to us, how we wanted to proceed and much more. So here again, much revolved around the house and yet it was totally relaxed with beach, heat and without a car.

So we agreed to the seller and determined basic aspects such as purchase date, notary period for the purchase contract and some other aspects.

The following months were characterized by the fact that we or mainly my husband took care of the financing. This was not so easy in our case, because we didn't just buy as a couple, but we took out the loan as a couple, my dad's house still had to be sold, etc. It was complicated and it should be. It was complicated and it should stay that way for the time being.

At the beginning of November we finally had the notary appointment for the sales contract. This was a big weight off my mind. Somehow I was still afraid that something might not work out. That the seller could continue to look for other buyers. Or whatever. But luckily, everything here worked out the way we thought it would.

While my husband was still sorting out the financing and exact terms, we were planning the renovation. We thought about what exactly needed to be done and when. We thought about what we could do ourselves and what we wanted someone to do. It was a lot of organizing and I was really grateful that my husband took on so much of it.

When the daycare centers closed because of Corona, I was almost desperate. I lacked my income, I lacked the time, I lacked the strength to deal with conditions around working and I lacked the balance. I felt alone. Like so many. I was afraid in many ways. I felt how everything was getting on top of my head.

Yet somehow we managed. Not every day was easy, not every moment was beautiful. And yet we managed to plan and arrange a lot for our house.

Little by little I packed moving boxes. Together with my son, I dismantled furniture that we no longer needed. Our basement room became fuller and fuller.

When we were able to start renovations in the house in June, my daughter went back to daycare by the hour. My son soon had individual hours of preschool in the nursery. So at least I had some time to work, prepare for the move, or just for me sometimes.

We drove with each time we went to the house already moving boxes or furniture parts, so that we did not have to carry so much from our attic apartment during the actual move.

My husband had organized the tradesmen so well that once we were done with the preliminary work, it went really quickly. Within about two weeks, our house went from a total construction site with no tile, wallpaper or flooring to our new home.

There was little time for reflection, little time for emotion. In the few quiet moments, the anticipation grew, especially when I saw the progress in the house, when I was there in the garden with the children. And at the same time I was a bit melancholic and wistful to soon no longer live in our apartment.

We had lived there for over six years. My son experienced his first six years here. My daughter was born in our living room. It was an apartment, a room full of emotions. We had so many beautiful moments. Moments when we grew together as a family and as a couple. We celebrated our wedding there, very intimate and small.

And we had moments there full of anger, sadness and arguments. Just many emotional moments and everything had had its place here.

But it was not only the apartment that I would miss. We had grown fond of some of the neighbors - yes, we would see them again, but it would be different. We felt so comfortable in this student district, and the quieter surroundings initially seemed almost stuffy and not very lively. Fortunately, this was soon to change.

In mid-July, we finally moved with many hard-working helpers. There was not so much to do and that was good. Thus the move was relatively relaxed and we sat together in the evening comfortably with stick bread over the fire bowl.

In the apartment now still had to be cleaned, last arrangements with the next tenants had to be made (which we also had to look for shortly before the end, so as not to have to remove kitchen and floors). Yes, it was not really relaxed until the end of July.

But then some peace returned. My husband was finally on vacation, we were able to do many small things that still needed to be done in the house, and had time to arrive here.

In the meantime I feel comfortable here. I feel safe here. I am beginning to accept it as my home and accept it internally. It will still take some time until it feels completely like that. But with every piece we change, with every picture we hang up and with every plant that comes to the right place, it becomes something more.

Have you ever moved after a long period of time? How did it work out for you? Were you happy to be out of there? Were you perhaps also sad? I look forward to reading about your experiences in the comments!

Image sources

• Cover image: https://unsplash.com/photos/GopRYASfsOc
• Image 1: https://unsplash.com/photos/8mCsyImZRGY
• Image 2: https://unsplash.com/photos/_kkx1WekVRY
• Image 3: https://unsplash.com/photos/twWIq9MxPRg
• Image 4: https://unsplash.com/photos/K5sjajgbTFw
• Image 5: https://unsplash.com/photos/WCbCRXk7nmU
• Image 6: https://unsplash.com/photos/bt0it9pozXM