Order in the house

Something of a nesting instinct has kicked back into me in the last few days. It has know been three months since the miscarriage - a quarter of a year - and I wonder if the two things are connected. I realised this morning that it was actually three months yesterday since we lost our beautiful baby Beans - I only made the connection today when I consciously thought about the dates. I feel that might be progress, as in the weeks following the miscarriage dates and times jumped out of my subconscious at me all the time and I couldn't have escaped them even if I wanted too. Maybe those memories are finally fading now, although I still feel an underlying sadness that seems to be there most of the time - and I am aware that on Monday I could have been six months pregnant, I know that will cut deep.

Since the end of April, the Boy and I have spent a fair bit of time at home in the flat but we've also been out a lot together or with friends. We'd withdrawn from socialising when we found out I was pregnant - for someone like me who was regularly out and was often seen as the life and soul of the party, the excuses about not drinking were just too difficult! - and we also wanted to be together and excitedly talk about the future and this life that was growing inside of me. But we've certainly made up for that in recent times and I feel jaded and fatigued from that lifestyle and ready to think about doing things differently. We'd put a planned move from our little flat to a bigger place further out of the centre of London on hold when we found out I was pregnant. Even for me - renowned amongst my friendship group for doing 20 things at one - selling a flat, having a baby and buying a house was too much all at once.

I think since we lost the baby, our lives have also been on hold. We've not been able to look very far ahead  to a future without our child as it has been too painful. It's been about getting through life on a day-to-day basis, literally taking each 24 hours as it comes, and breaking up the weeks with nice plans at the weekend, going to gigs or the theatre, spending money and living life as if we were footloose and fancy-free, and peppering the months with short breaks and holidays, so we've never had to look ahead to a big 'chunk' of time, of life, stretching ahead.

I wonder now if that's changing. Since we came back from Suffolk the Boy and I have seriously been looking at our finances, working out exactly where we are now and where we hope to be in six months time and in a year's time, and so on. Curbing back the pennies that have been frittered away on short-term fulfilment to mask our pain. We've begun looking at when would be the best time for us to move and working out a spending and saving plan going forwards. I've also been looking at the flat in a new way, and thinking about the jobs that we could do around the flat to improve it and make it the nicest living space it could be for us while we are still here - and at the weekend we are going to look around Beckenham and West Wickham as possible places we could move too. We're still keen on East Greenwich and West Charlton but nothing is coming on the market, and it seems we can get more for our money just another zone further out.

I suppose what is happening is a realisation that life does go on. It has too. I have to face that, and I have to accept that sadness will be a part of my life for a time, and I have to find a way to let myself be ok with that. I need to live life and go forwards, and work out how the sadness can be alongside me in that journey - and not be holding me in the moment or pulling me back. I'm not sure yet how I can do that, how the Boy and I will manage this. But I suppose the realisation it needs to happen now is a valuable one, and an important first step in bringing order in the Beans house.