We've begun home repairs and room rearrangements to make room for this baby. The room that was once intended to be a nursery, might be one yet.
It strange, watching it come full circle. After we lost the first baby, I claimed the room for my own because it was easier than seeing it represent everything we lost. I slathered on the paint, piled in my things, and it felt good to fill up it's emptiness. It became my art room, my library, my office, maybe it's easier to say it was just... my room. I went there when I was angry, when I needed to cry, when my grief from our infertility and our losses was too much to bear and I needed to paint, to write, to draw, anything in an attempt to cope with things.
Three years after I took it back, it's hard to believe that it might actually serve it's original intended purpose.