A few months ago, my husband and I decided to switch the rooms we had designated for guests and for our home office. We wanted to narrow down the sleeping options in the house to partially deter frequent family visitors and also desired to have more room to complete projects and actually do work when needed.
We got rid of the guest bed and created a very nice space for the new office, adding a couch that actually folds flat into a bed to still accommodate the overnight stays. As far as the other room- well, that never fully came to fruition. We now have a room that contains a white dresser (perfect for a nursery), a family rocking chair that we have had for years (that would look nice in a nursery) and just random other things that we need to deal with at some point. Are you getting the general idea here? In reality, we have a room that we have closed the door on and only enter if we need something out of the closet. Our hopes and our dreams fill that room, but whenever I walk in anymore I feel like the air has been let out. It is stuffy (not good for a nursery), it is dusty (not good for a nursery either) and it has become nothing that I have ever wanted it to be.
This weekend my husband and I went to the local big box home improvement store and purchased a gallon of paint. I am ready to change the room, I *think*. I am afraid of making the change, but leaving it untouched for so many months has not done anything for our 'baby agenda'. We are going to paint the room a nice mossy green color, 'Tabu' to be exact (I found the name of the color to be quite appropriate given our discreet infertile situation). We are going to purchase a small guest bed and make the space livable again. It is all we can do for now.
What I have come to realize is that the tangible room in our home has become a reflection of my heart. I naively dreamed of making that particular space a nursery one day when we bought our house, my heart just simply floating along. I was excited to make the switch of the two rooms awhile back, wistfully hoping that the transition of space would signal something out there to create transition within our family of two.
Then nothing happened, and I filled that room with a variety of things that I no longer needed...and I was (am still) sad. My heart aches to think that we are taking a step backwards, but it is time to set it free. I need to unclutter the room, and unclutter my heart. Both need to be dusted off and made brighter so that they can be shared again.
2 comments:
I know it must be really hard for you to deal with this room. I really admire your decision to make it a bedroom again and you've inspired me to do the same in my house. I'm sending good thoughts your way :)
Our someday-maybe-nursery is our office right now. I've never had the heart to do anything baby-related in there. I did paint it a nice neutral shade of green, but that was because it HAD to be painted, and I didn't want to have to re-do it if we ever get pg.