Letting Go of My Dreams of Homeownership

self insemination kit

Back in 2006, when I learned I was expecting my first child, my partner and I decided to move from Brooklyn to a suburban area in Queens, right near the Long Island border. We had some savings from an inheritance, and we thought it would be wise to invest in a small co-op apartment with plans to sell it in a few years. The real estate market was booming, and we were optimistic about making a profit that would eventually allow us to buy a larger apartment or even a house.

Then the recession hit, bringing a significant real estate crash. The value of our apartment plummeted. A few years later, my partner lost his job and was unemployed for an entire year, which severely impacted our finances, just as our real estate hopes crumbled.

As we welcomed our second child, our cramped living situation became unbearable. We hesitated to move, knowing it would likely mean losing most, if not all, of the money we had invested in our apartment over the years. Unfortunately, when we sold it, we indeed lost a substantial amount — far less than what we paid seven years earlier. With real estate and moving fees factored in, we didn’t even break even. It was one of the most stressful and disheartening experiences of my life, and even now, I feel a knot in my stomach recalling it.

We eventually relocated to a duplex that provided us with more than double the space, complete with a yard for the kids to enjoy. We love our new neighborhood and feel settled here, but we are still renting. Without our previous savings, we’re uncertain when or if we can afford to buy a house again.

As a child, I always imagined myself as a homeowner. Growing up in an apartment with a single mom who couldn’t afford a house, I longed for a place of my own — a home with a white picket fence. It’s perhaps why I was so eager to invest in real estate when we became parents. I often blame myself for that decision, even though the market was thriving at the time.

Currently, our prospects for saving enough for a down payment in our area, one of the priciest housing markets in the country, seem bleak. We could consider relocating, but we love our community, where three of my children’s grandparents live and are actively involved in their lives. I don’t want to take that away from them. Right now, any savings we manage to set aside go toward classes, summer camps, and, gulp, college.

Ultimately, I’ve come to realize that one cannot have it all. If certain aspects of our lives were different, homeownership might still be a possibility. But this is our reality, and acceptance is crucial.

Letting go of lifelong expectations can be challenging. Adulthood and parenthood often take unexpected turns, and things don’t always align with our dreams. Despite my desire for homeownership, I understand the comfort and stability it represents. I regret that I may not achieve this dream or provide it for my children.

That said, I don’t dwell too much on these regrets anymore. I see that we have a rich and fulfilling family life. Our home is warm and loving. My kids have great friends, a wonderful school, and a welcoming community that feels like home. We may not have the white picket fence, but we have many of the elements of the happy domestic life I envisioned long ago.

If you’re interested in exploring more about family planning and home insemination, check out this resource. You can also learn about at-home insemination kits from Make a Mom or find valuable information about pregnancy at March of Dimes.

Summary:

In 2006, I dreamed of homeownership as my partner and I invested in a small apartment, but the recession and personal challenges dashed those hopes. After selling our apartment for a loss, we found a rental duplex that feels like home, yet we grapple with the reality of never owning a house. Acceptance has been difficult, but our family thrives in a supportive community, showing that happiness doesn’t solely hinge on homeownership.