Luke's Nursery

I can usually go into the nursery with no problem. I have an incredibly comfortable lazy-boy rocking chair I got for my birthday back in July. It's great to read in, nap in, or just sit and think in. When I'm in there I usually curl up with the quilt that I made for Luke. I love the nursery. It was a labor of love for my little baby --everything from the painted walls, painted crib, refinished changing table, custom window valance, sewn bed skirt, and mommy-made wall art--was all part of the environment I created in anticipation of spending long hours and endless nights in there with my son.

Some people offered to help take down the nursery right after Luke was born. I wasn't ready for that. I'm still not. I even stained and painted a shelf and some frames (that I hadn't gotten to before Luke's birth) and hung them up. I guess that's kinda strange. There was no sense in finishing the nursery since it won't be used as one anytime soon. But I did it. Maybe I just want to finish it to see what it could have been. And instead of filling it with a baby I'll just fill it with my dreams of a life to come. It makes me sad to brush my finger across the top of the changing table I painted just in time for Luke's arrival to just discover that it's collecting dust. How empty it seems. When walking by the nursery, I turn the light on, gaze in, and turn it off again with a sigh. Only to turn the light back on, gaze on again, almost smiling at the thought of my son that I love so much. Just to turn the light off and walk away.

Last night I was just tidying things up in our house. Gathering a pile of sympathy cards I took them into the nursery. I thought I could store them in the basket on the changing table that was still holding the baby powder, baby lotion, and other little baby essentials. I started to put the unneeded baby items on the top shelf in the closet. I held the unopened diaper wipes to my face and just smelled the sweet, clean, baby smell.

I just lost it. I couldn't keep the tears from coming.

Was putting those items away confirming what I already know? That my baby isn't coming. He's not going to need these items. Not now. Not ever.

So in their place I put a lovely pile of cards. The room is empty, but at least I have that tangible confirmation of all the love and prayers that have been offered in our behalf. So for now I guess it's just a nursery filled with love.