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Eight years ago, we bought our first house, and moved from Michigan to North Carolina. The day the moving truck arrived with our things; it was so sunny and warm the movers wore tank tops. But the ground showed evidence that winter was indeed here. I felt sidelined and out of place directing the men where to take boxes. Eventually I took paper and labeled all of the doorways upstairs: master & master bath, boy’s room, spare room, baby’s room.
I was 13 weeks pregnant and on restriction. I wasn’t supposed to lift anything heavier than a gallon of milk. I did my best to stay seated, drink water, keep my feet elevated, and my blood pressure down. But I also had a 4-year-old son to keep out of the way of the movers and a new house to set up. I did most of the kitchen that day after they left and then felt very tired so I took the boys and went back to the tiny efficiency apartment we were staying in until we were settled. I fell asleep around 6pm and didn’t wake up until morning when my husband kissed me good-bye each day I did a bit more in the...