Every day, we are becoming more and more aware that our baby is a toddler now. She is starting to use the potty. She is starting to have her own thoughts and opinions and her own unique way to express them. She is no longer sleeping in a crib.
Last week, we dismantled her crib (which had been converted to a toddler bed) and her changing table. A friend of a friend had a new grandchild coming and could use the furniture and we were more than happy to give it to her. We have been given so much that it felt good to be able to give back.
As we started to deconstruct Miranda's nursery, my heart started to skip a little faster. Never again would be be assembling a crib in that room. It made me sad and then it made me glad.
The nursery has always been a power keg of emotions for me. When Gary painted it a pretty green shade back in the Winter of 2011, we carefully picked out the furniture and bedding and pictures and decorations. I was the happiest I had ever been. A few months later, our friends and family came over and tore everything down and put it all in trash bags in the basement. Out came the crib and in went the old queen bed and the room went back to being a guest room. For the longest time, I would come up the steps and not even look that way. It just hurt too much. I was the saddest I had ever been.
When we decided to adopt and had the home study, we had to show the social worker where the nursery would be. We showed her the guest room and explained that we could fill it when we knew there was a baby on the way. But not too much before. She knew our story and she loved the room and the potential it had.
When we were chosen to be Miranda's parents, we put the nursery back together. At first I wanted to paint it a new color and get all new furniture, but by then, the scar tissue had formed over my open wounds and I liked the idea of Allie's crib and changing table finally being used. I liked that the pretty green shade that we picked for her would now be the color that her sister would see every morning and every night.
For over two and a half years, that furniture kept Miranda safe and sound. She learned how to sleep in that crib. She had her first dreams in that room. We fed her bottles late at night while staring at the walls that her sister was supposed to also see. We read endless books in that room. We laughed. We probably cried. We sang songs. We survived.
That room stopped being sad for me the day that Miranda came home. I still missed Allie, of course. That never changed. Sometimes even more when I saw what she was missing. But the room was Miranda's now and that was easy to accept.
The baby that was supposed to receive the furniture was supposed to be a girl and she was due in about a month. I heard yesterday that he was here, a full month early. You read that right. HE!
So bye-bye old crib and changing table and old memories. Enjoy your new home. A boy will have different dreams and different books and different songs to sing. Cherish each and every one.
In the meantime, we have a lot to do here to prepare for our growing toddler. The time is going by so fast. I think it's fair to say this is the happiest we have all ever been.