The nursery. What to do with the nursery? I'm 40 - I might not conceive again. Kara was our little miracle - after 2 years of trying to conceive including 18 months of infertility treatments and 3 IVF cycles - she was the little egg that could.
When I found out that 'he' was actually a 'she' - I painted the nursery deep pink. It is beautiful. It matches the potterybarn crib bedding with little pink birds.... I painted that nursery with thoughts of my baby ~ would she like it? would she ask me to repaint it when she was 5? would she like the bird-theme I picked out? I love birds - they are so happy and cheerful - always singing and cheeping - and happily bouncing through our yard. I love them. I thought this would make a happy nursery for my baby. The dresser is white with a few dainty flowers handpainted around the brass pulls. The changing table is pale pink with a scalloped edge - everything was just right. All these happy thoughts of my baby and her life, and how I wanted to make her room 'just right' for her.
Since we lost Kara, I can't go into the nursery without my heart breaking into little pieces. Slowly, we began to put things away. One day, my husband took the crib down and put it into the basement - along with the bassinet. Another day, we packed away tiny diapers, lotions and creams. On yet another, we removed her tiny socks, hats & frilly outfits from drawers, sadly packing them in the closet. Day after day, one or two tasks at a time.
Slowly, I began entering the room and putting more baby shower gifts into her closet, wondering ~ do I take them back to the store? Do I pack them away? Will I have anything left to remind me of her if I do? Am I trying to erase her memory? Or am I trying to make my home less painful to live in? What is the right and proper thing to do? I still have no answers.
Two days ago, I decided it was time to paint the nursery. Something suitable for either a nursery - or a guest room. As I stood in the paint aisle, trying to pick a color, I decided it was too much for today, I should just find a primer. In the primer aisle, I was again overwhelmed and could not focus. It is unbelievably sad that I must cover up that pink paint - because it reminds me of everything I will never have. All of my dreams for Kara come crashing back to me at the sight of that room. Every time I brought another baby item into that room, I fantasized about how her new little life and all the fun things we would do together.
My husband keeps the door to the nursery closed. But even as I walk by, I see pink reflected under the door onto the white carpeted hallway. Little traces of my shattered dream and of my lost child. A pink room she will never see. Little birds on her bedding that she will never giggle at. A pink dressing table she will never lay on to have her diapers changed.
Hy husband just walked in a moment ago and began removing the furniture from the nursery. I go up to help him, and he shoo's me away, trying to save me from the pain. But I persist, and remove the bird valances from the windows. As I pack them in the closet, I see a few outfits still hanging there - so sweet and new. Pink dresses, knit jumpers, and a pink jumper with an appliqued bird. Memories come flooding back of being happily pregnant, buying her outfits without a worry in the world. Without even a thought of my little baby not being born alive. I was so naive and innocent. I can't handle this reality. It is ugly and horrible. I am broken inside and angry, sad and hopeless, as I finger the dresses on their hangers, just to feel the rawness of my pain even deeper. Why must I do this to myself? I am drawn like a magnet to her things.....I cannot stop. There are times when I cannot run from the pain and I draw it into me, deeper and deeper until I cannot find my breath. The appliqued bird on that jumper, it did me in today. So delicate and innocent - like the baby that died in her mother's womb.
I will miss her forever, my little Kara. My life ended with hers.
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