Four Years, One House, and a Whole Lot of Growth

When we moved into our home on Blue Heron Lane almost four years ago, I thought I had it all figured out. We were 7 months pregnant with our first baby, just moved into a brand new house in the perfect neighborhood, and I thought I was stepping into my dream life: stay-at-home-mom, beautiful space, clean slate. But what I didn’t realize is that house would become the backdrop of some of the hardest, most humbling, and ultimately most meaningful years of my life.

March 31, 2025

We closed on our house on Blue Heron Lane today, and I can’t help but reflect on everything these walls held. From newborn cries to late-night diaper changes, puppy chaos to quiet breakdowns, holidays, hurricanes, and a whole lot of healing—I’ve been through some of my highest highs and lowest lows here. It’s where I learned how to be a mom, a wife, a leader, and most importantly, myself. It didn’t just raise our babies—it grew me up, too.

The Wild Start

We moved into our house on Blue Heron Lane on April 26, 2021. I was seven months pregnant with Grayson. My parents told us not to do it. “You’re going to need support when the baby comes,” they said. And looking back—they weren’t wrong. But at the time, everything looked perfect on paper. Parker was thriving at New York Life. I had no plans to return to my nursing job at the pediatric GI clinic where I started that January. We were moving into a brand-new home in the most beautiful, family-friendly neighborhood. It felt like the dream.

And then life hit fast….

We lost our beloved dog, Rocky, just a month after moving in. Three days later, I went into labor and gave birth to our firstborn, Grayson.

That stretch of time is still a blur—grief, excitement, overwhelm, and so many unknowns. A few weeks later, we brought home our German Shorthaired Pointer puppy, Koda Mae, and just a day later, we were evacuating for Hurricane Ida with a newborn and a 7-week-old puppy in tow.

Those first few months were a crash course in surrender—to say the least.

When “Perfect” Didn’t Feel Like Peace

From the outside, our life looked picture-perfect: two loving parents, a healthy baby, a puppy, and a gorgeous new house. But I was silently unraveling.

I was an only child, suddenly living far from my parents and the support I had always known. I was trying to figure out motherhood, marriage, identity, and healing—all at once. I struggled with undiagnosed postpartum depression and the disorienting feeling of “I should be happy… so why do I feel so lost?”

When your shirt says “It’s fine, I’m fine, everything is fine” but you’re hiding in the playroom with takeout and a marg trying to keep it together. Motherhood is beautiful—but it’s also a lot. And sometimes, this is the only moment of peace you get all day.

Friendships shifted. I felt alone. It felt like my whole world had changed overnight.

I thought having the dream house would make me feel grounded and whole. But instead of peace, I felt pressure. Pressure to keep up. To always have the house looking a certain way. To be a certain kind of mom. To be “grateful enough” to earn the life I had.

Turns out, comparison really is the thief of joy.

Coming Home to Myself

Somewhere between the sleepless nights, the solo Target runs, and the moments crying on the bathroom floor—I started to wake up.

I realized that peace wasn’t hiding in a Pinterest-perfect pantry or a curated playroom. It wasn’t about the granite or the grass or the natural light.

It was about being still enough to hear God’s voice. About choosing presence over perfection. Gratitude over comparison. Service over striving.

The peace I was chasing wasn’t out there—it was already inside of me. I just had to make space for it.

Blue Heron Lane will always be special. It taught me how to be a mother, a wife, a leader, and most importantly—how to be myself.

This house raised me just as much as it raised my babies.

As we turn the page and head back to New Orleans, I carry the lessons with me. It’s not about the place. It’s about how you choose to live within it.

With intention. With faith. With love.

If you’ve ever felt like the picture-perfect life left you empty, I hope this reminds you: peace is already inside you. You just have to make space for it.

Here’s to new beginnings ♡
–KT