The echoes got to me today.

The echoes of diminishing rooms and empty hallways. The echoes of memories made here: bringing Rhenner home and teaching my children and welcoming friends and family. Hours and hours spent in the backyard, tears shed, and miracles witnessed and love grown and sown. The echoes of boxes being packed, rolls of tape and squeaky permanent markers labeling our entire life down to single categories: kitchen, boys room, bathroom. The echoes; My voice, sounding bare and raw, bouncing back at me and reaffirming what I already know to be true: I’m scared. I’m not quite ready. But mostly….I’m sad.

Regardless of my emotions. Regardless of the treacherous timing it all fell out to be. Regardless of my fears, uncertainties, and the difficulties that still lie ahead. Regardless of it all – it doesn’t change that the move – finally – felt right. Unforced and simple, really, in the way it happened. It is right.

It’s been over a year now that Adam has been telling me he is ready to move, to try something different. A new job, a new location. He had the itch, and I knew it wasn’t just a half-hearted desire. I watched him go through cycles of emotions; the longer we stayed put the more often they would come. The Utah Job was never a new option – it’s been lingering in the distance, open and available to us for two years now. But in my heart, it never felt right. I pushed so hard against it, I completely blocked that option off.

So Adam searched elsewhere. He applied with different companies, around the country and around the world. Tennessee, England, Australia, Washington, Virginia, Colorado. His application delivered to so many, and still we sat. Never a bite.

In the quiet of the night, as we lay beside each other in bed, the darkness may have hid my tears but my squeaky voice could not. I told Adam how I felt moving to Utah would mean I would lose it all. That the only way I would ever be ready to move to Utah was if I was ready to give up my business. I told him that moving to Utah would strip me of an identity I had worked so hard for.

Because here in Maryland, I am someone different. I am Mormon. I am a working Mormon mom, and I run a business. The people I come in contact with through my business gain a positive exposure to Mormonism because of me. That is my way of doing missionary work, of bringing others closer to Christ and a Christ-like marriage. And I knew, and I feared – that moving to Utah would mean, suddenly, I’m no different. I am just like everyone else. I will be lost in the sea of other Mormon Mommy Photographers, and I will never be seen as special again.

And yet somehow, I also JUST KNEW that I wouldn’t be “the same” enough. I would never be “Mormon” enough to really fit in. My tendencies to let a swear word slip out, to think outside of the normal Mormon box, I could go on and on about how and what I would be judged for. I would always be watched and I wasn’t sure I’d ever pass the test. This contradiction – I’m no longer special and I’m not The Same Enough – would mean I could never find a place. I’d always be on the outskirts of finding my niche.

In my heart, I knew I was being just as judgmental as I feared everyone in Utah would be: I was pre-judging the entire state of Utah to be not Christ-like enough to welcome just one more seemingly ordinary Mormon Wedding Photographer into “their” state. Maybe I was displacing my anger. Maybe I was blaming them when it was really just me being scared of starting over, of the work that comes with getting my footing again.

But still I could see Adam was unhappy. I could see he was trying to do something different and NOTHING was falling into place. Every day I looked at the quote on my wall: “Bloom where you are planted.” Every day I got a little braver, a little more determined. I began to ask myself, “Since when I have been so easily pushed aside? So easy to give up? Since when have I let others dictate MY success?” Every day I told myself, over and over again, that I could bloom wherever I am planted. I could be the best ME no matter what state we lived in.

One day I gathered up my courage and I told Adam he could apply for the position in Utah. The position that had been open for two years now, seemingly just waiting for him to take it. Really, just waiting for ME to let him take it. So he did. He applied. And he was offered the position on the spot, no interview needed.

The Lord had been waiting for me to be ready.

Some days I feel more ready than others. Some days, like today, the echoes get to me and I crumble in a pile of tears as I think about leaving. About saying good bye and starting over. About how much work is left to do in the next 6 weeks before we are in Utah. About the fact that once we do get to Utah, I will only have 5 weeks to get settled before a brand new baby comes and throws things all out of whack all over again – and I won’t even have unpacked by then! I get very scared about the impending postpartum depression that I know is waiting for me, and how it will be even worse than last time because I will be in not just a new house and a new church ward, but in an entirely new state and part of the country. I will have no friends and I will slip by unnoticed and it will be winter forever and it will be cold. And lonely.

*Deep breath.* So, here we are. Getting ready to leave and start a new adventure. To answer a few questions —

• Yes I am still taking Maryland wedding inquiries! I am already flying back to MD for two weddings next year, one in May and one in June. I am excited for these weddings and am happy I’ll be able to return for them.
• I will most likely be accepting other types of sessions during these trips back to Maryland….yes, even family sessions. So reach out to me if you’re interested!
• Yes I will be very pregnant when we move. I will be 35 weeks pregnant when we drive our car cross-country from east coast to west coast.
• We are putting our house on the market at the end of the month. I will be staying with family in Philadelphia for the majority of December as we try to sell the house (and all of our things will already be on their way to Utah!)

And now I have questions for you, my dear Out West friends.

Tell me you love Utah!
Tell me my boys will love Utah.
Tell me I will fit in.
Tell me my business won’t die, but with some hard work and patience, once again thrive.
Tell me you’re excited for me to be closer.
Tell me the fun things I’ll get to do in the winter that I can’t do in Maryland.
Tell me you’ll be my friend.
Tell me it’s all going to be okay.