Bittersweet

After all the frustration my husband and I have suffered while trying to purchase our first home, it finally appears that we will succeed. A few weeks ago, we put in a bid for a beautiful 1940's house in the historic district of our city, not far from the shipyard where my husband's ship is stationed. After much haggling over the contract and a few bumps in the process, everything is set to go through. The house passed inspection and is being appraised today. All that is left is to sign the final papers, which should happen at the end of this month. One of my joys lately has been dreaming about that house and all the room William will have to play in it.

He needs more room. He is crawling much faster, pulling up to low surfaces, and getting into everything. Watching him has become exhausting. I've had to remove him countless times from electrical wires (which he LOVES to play with), fish fuzz and rug fibers out of his mouth, and comfort him from all the times he's fallen or crawled head-first into the coffee table. I'm pretty much confined to the living room while my husband is at work, unable to let William out of my sight for more than a handful of seconds. A designated play area just for him would be a godsend.

But there is a cloud hanging over me as we prepare to transition to our wonderful new home. I finally saw my doctor concerning the physical strain I have been suffering, and the news is not good. I do not have all of the information yet, so I do not know how serious my condition is or what my treatment will be. But the initial diagnosis has me pretty devastated. There's a reason I feel like I'm 27 going on 80--it's because, in a way, I am. That's all I feel comfortable saying. For now, I'm just waiting until I can get more answers, which should happen in two weeks--and trying to keep my head together.