When we decided we were going to start a family, we also had to accept that it was time to move on from our studio in the City of London.
Ten years ago, when we arrived at the tiny rental flat in the middle of a spectacular thunder storm, carrying only dreams and expectations of life in the Big Smoke, it seemed the perfect roosting place.
We only had a few bags of clothes each and a room with a view, a futon and little else was all we wanted or required. And we loved it.
Almost a decade on, as I sit cross legged on the floor eating a bowl of pasta off my lap at the same time as trying to entertain my daughter in her baby bouncer, squashed up against a travel cot, I do wonder how we lasted this long.
No, that’s not true. Looking out at Centre Point in the distance and knowing the whole of London is quite literally on my doorstep, I can see exactly why we are still here.
But D Day has arrived. After a year of scouring the suburbs for a nest big enough for three, followed by almost six months of waiting on tender hooks for the sale to go through, we are about to leave our home.
In the final weeks of my pregnancy, after things didn’t quite go to the original plan, I lay awake panicking about how we could possibly cope bringing up a baby in our city pad.
But needs must, and after almost five months of raising my child an urban chick, I now feel fearful of leaving.
We have made so many new friends in the last few months. Okay, I don’t know half the mother’s names, only their babies’, and it would now be far too rude to ask now, but our children have grown up together all their lives!
If we want to pop to a swimming pool, or a children’s centre or a baby cinema, an art gallery or even a garden, we have so many to choose from.
Far from feeling trapped in our tiny room, as a new mother in the city I have felt so free.
Of course, compact living is not all convenient.
Trekking to the laundrette, as we have no room for a washing machine, has always been a drag. But staggering with two IKEA bags weighed down with dirty washing while pushing a pram would not be out of place in the Tough Mudder Obstacle course.
When we were young free spirits, inviting people round to a dinner of take away sushi on the floor seemed cool. But as we have grown older, our lack of a table has just made entertaining an embarrassing impossibility.
And I know many people share their bedroom with a young baby, but sharing our entire living space 24/7 means any time we decide to indulge in reading or watching television after ‘lights out’ only results in sleepless nights for all.
Yet we have muddled through thus far, all the while telling people we were crossing our fingers we could move to our new home soon.
But now that we finally have the green light, I don’t feel so revved up.
How will we fair in the slow, easy going life of the leafy suburbs? Will we make new friends? Will we really make the journey back to the city regularly?
At least I can’t worry that our new life will be boring. The number of rooms I have to keep clean and tidy just quadrupled. And I’m not doing a very good job at just one!