Early this morning, I read a blog post from my friend, Sarah. She was talking about her “spare room” and the longing she has to turn it into a nursery. Her words really resonated with me. I, too, have a spare room. It started about 7 years ago when I insisted we rent a 2 bedroom apartment, so we would have room for a baby. When we bought our house nearly 5 years ago, it had 3 bedrooms. We made one our bedroom, one a music room and threw everything else we didn’t know what to do with into the 3rd bedroom. We even called it the “3rd bedroom”.
As the years went by, I began to wonder if it would always be just the “3rd bedroom”. Part of me wanted to change it into something else, but the other part couldn’t bear to do it. So it just sat.
When I became pregnant this time around, I told Ryan I was going to jump in right away and get to work on that room. But I haven’t. Because there is so much to buy, I thought I would start making purchases immediately. But I haven’t. I am 5 ½ months pregnant and I haven’t even begun to clean out the bedroom closet. I’ve bought one thing for the nursery (the baby monitor). That’s it. I’ve had the time and energy to do it. But I haven’t.
I kept giving myself deadlines… I’ll start cleaning when the morning sickness is better. I’ll buy something with my next paycheck. When I find out the gender. When I confirm the gender. When Ryan and I have days off together. New deadlines I never meet.
Why is that? I am beyond excited. What is my problem then? After reading Sarah’s post today I realized… I’m scared. For so long I wondered if I would ever have a baby’s room. I stopped imagining what it would look like. I stopped thinking how I’d decorate it. I pushed it out of my mind and pretended that room didn’t exist.
Now that the time is here when I can finally create my child’s bedroom, I feel intimidated. Scared. Unrealistically afraid that in doing so, I will ‘jinx’ myself. If I let myself be too excited and carefree, it will hurt more if all of this is taken away. Every item I buy and every decoration I make would be one more reminder of what we’ve lost if we were to lose her.
I am starting to wonder if I need some help in dealing with these emotions. It’s like I have a mild form of PTSD or something. I have to make a concerted effort not to visualize the bad things that could happen. I won’t go into detail, but I would like this to get better.
Just writing it out has been helpful, as jumbled as this blog post may be. I think I need to face my anxiety, have some faith and jump in with both feet. It is a disservice to those 7 years of infertility, and all the other women still waiting, if I don’t enjoy this to the fullest. And my daughter deserves a mom who isn’t paralyzed by fear.
I took a big step and chose the colors for the room, and I have some ideas of what I’d like to do. My next goal is to clean out the closet within one week. Baby steps…