We thought we were doing the right thing when we left Chicago for a small town in Ohio.
I was pregnant with our first child, and Ohio offered more space, a lower cost of living, and most importantly, being closer to family.
What I hadn’t accounted for, though, was how deeply I’d miss our support system, our city life, and the community that helped me feel grounded in a season of so much personal change.
We didn’t last long in Ohio.
I hated Chicago at first
To be frank, Chicago was never part of my life plan. However, after two years of long-distance dating, I moved from my hometown in Maryland to Chicago in the summer of 2013 for a new job and to be closer to my now-husband, Jeff.
At first, I hated Chicago because I missed home, my family and friends, crab cakes, and getting peanuts from Lexington Market before Orioles games.
A year later, however, Jeff and I got married and, to my surprise, I’d fallen in love with the city.
Through various networking events, I’d found a group of like-minded, ambitious millennial women.
Plus, there was no shortage of date nights—a Black futurism-inspired event at the city’s planetarium; Adult Nights’ Out at Lincoln Park Zoo; and, of course, gallivanting from festival to festival in the summer.
Then the time came for us to consider having kids.
We moved to Ohio because we thought it was the right thing to do
Without either of our families nearby, we just assumed we’d need to move closer to either Ohio, where Jeff was from, or Maryland once we started our own family.
After all, we figured this was the natural order of life—go from the city to the ‘burbs to raise your family and live happily ever after.
Two egg retrievals and four embryo transfers later, we finally got pregnant in February 2021, which kicked our plan to move to Ohio into high gear.
That May, we visited to scope out some Columbus neighborhoods. I was starting to have some second thoughts about moving, especially given the political climate at the time, but figured it was too late to say anything.
All of the wheels were already in motion: our Chicago condo was going on the market, and contracts had been signed.
The day we packed up the U-Haul and started toward Ohio, I could feel the regret creeping up, but there was no going back.
We moved in with my in-laws
We moved into my in-laws’ house in Northeast Ohio while we searched for a home in Columbus.
When we first arrived, we hit the ground running, making the hourlong trek from his parents’ house to Columbus every weekend for open houses and showings.
Columbus seemed more suburban than I’d initially expected. While living in Chicago, I’d grown accustomed to the city’s walkability.
However, the more walkable neighborhoods near Columbus, such as Westerville and Worthington, were out of our price range, and each showing left me feeling more jaded than the last.
With a rapidly approaching C-section scheduled for mid-October, we made the difficult decision to halt our home search after Labor Day. It wasn’t what I’d envisioned: bringing our newborn to my husband’s childhood home. Yet, there we were.
I regretted moving to Ohio
Afterward, I would come to refer to this season of my life as a three-layer depression cake:
- Depression over leaving Chicago.
- Prenatal depression, which would eventually segue into postpartum depression.
- Seasonal depression as the autumn days turned into winter, and Northeast Ohio seemed to be under a permanent overcast sky.
Thankfully, Jeff had four months of parental leave, but once that time was up, he had to commute to Columbus three days a week. I felt trapped.
The sidewalks in my in-laws’ neighborhood were limited, so taking the baby for a walk longer than 10 minutes was out of the question. We only had one car, so I couldn’t drive to a park when my husband was working in the office, and I felt anxious about driving anywhere alone with the new baby anyway.
I was sleep-deprived, could barely distinguish one day from the next, and no longer felt like myself.
Once, during a 2 a.m. feeding session, I seriously considered getting in the car and driving to either Maryland or Chicago after I placed the baby back in her bassinet. (I didn’t go through with it.)
After about five months of living in Ohio and several arguments later, I finally admitted to Jeff that I had regretted moving and put the prospect of returning to Chicago on the table.
He agreed, and in March 2022, we packed our things and returned to the city.
Chicago is where we belong for now
We found a condo in Evanston, just north of our old neighborhood of Rogers Park.
Because we were already familiar with the area, we knew it was a good place to raise a family.
It offered the best of both worlds—big city amenities with a small town vibe and proximity to downtown Chicago.
I could finally take the baby for walks around the neighborhood (yay, sidewalks) and we were within walking distance to several coffee shops and yoga studios.
Would I have undergone prenatal or postpartum depression if we’d stayed in Chicago? Who’s to say for sure? We’ve also contemplated if we’d need to move closer to family once we have another kid.
That said, I’m done plotting out five-year plans and putting the cart before the proverbial horse.
For the time being, we’re happy here in Evanston. Not only are we back with the friends we’d made before, but now we’ve managed to build community with other young Black families.
Only time will tell where life leads us, but if we end up settling down here in Evanston, I’m absolutely fine with that.
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