We bought a Suburban. We freaking bought a Suburban.
It's pretty. Super pretty.
And it's fun to drive. Like I sort of want to cruise Clearwater in it and relive my high school years.
But I have kids now. And speaking of the kids, we can fit all three kids and their car seats in one row. This makes Gabby very, very happy. She doesn't like to be alone. She gets that from me.
And yet, as we drove away from the minivan - the minivan I had professed I would drive into the ground - I cried. Like seriously cried.
I tried to pull off our family sticker, but realized it wasn't budging. This made me cry even more.
The thing is, as my Melanie so eloquently put it, that was our Field of Dreams van. We bought that van before we were officially married. We bought that van in preparation of babies.
We bought that van so the babies would come.
And while it took longer than we had hoped, and while there were losses we hadn't accounted for when we bought The Field of Dreams van, the babies did indeed come.
And the van brought all of those babies home. In such vastly different ways.
Nico was 10-days old when he and I flew home from Las Vegas. Trevor and the grandparents and Melanie were all waiting for us.
So was the van.
Noah was 24-hours-old when we left the hospital. . We picked up Nico at the babysitter's and the four of us drove home. In the van.
And then there's our Gabby. Sometimes it felt like we would never get to take her home. But we did. She was 53 days old and just shy of five pounds. And we put her in the van and drove home.
We bought that van so the babies would come. And they came. On their own time and in their own way. And the van drove each of those babies home.
It's always been hard for me to say goodbye. To family. To friends. To pets. To failed relationships, even if they sucked.
I can add "To my van" to that list now. The van that didn't suck. Not at all.
I loved that guy. Seriously loved him. I didn't even know it was a him until I had to say goodbye. But he was.
And I will miss him.