best of both worlds

I am a superstitious person.
No surprise there.
And so, as part of tradition
(and superstition, and many other keep-evil-eye-away-itions)
we did not decorate the nursery until the baby’s arrival.
We did paint,
and I did glue-gun,
but besides that,
the room remained empty,
only to be filled by our daughter,
and the incredible love that was born along with her.
Now, this tradition had a catch.
Because of my c-section,
and my subsequent 4 night hospital stay,
I was not home when the furniture arrived,
nor when the clothes were washed and put away,
drawers were organized,
paintings were hung,
trinkets were placed,
diaper pail bag was inserted into diaper pail….
you know,
all of those important nursery firsts.
Shockingly,
this stressed me out.
Yes, my husband went home to “oversee” everything,
and yes, he called me every step of the way,
but I still felt removed.
My husband may be many things, but a decorator, he is not.
Now he’s creative,
an artist,
but lacks interest in all things interior design.
So,
when I was released from the hospital,
beautiful baby girl in arms,
(or, in car-seat, but, you know)
I was anxious to see what had been done,
and not done,
in her precious room.
Let’s just say that I didn’t have the highest of expectations.
When we arrived home,
the first time the three of us entered the front door as a new, little family,
the first time our house became a nest for three, instead of two,
the first time the second bedroom became a nursery,
I made the arduous trip up the stairs (remember, c-section+stairs=no)
and peaked through the door.
It was magical.
The walls were coated in a creamy ivory, with one wall striped in the palest gray.
The oversized butter-colored furniture fit perfectly, and had been arranged with an expert eye.
The velvety, blush pink bumpers looked warm and rich and delicate, next to the softest cotton ivory and gray sheets and crib skirt.
This room was a room fit for a fairy princess.
This room was fit for our daughter.
Daughter.
It was real.
We had a daughter.
Everything was still so bare,
so pristine,
except for the top of her tall chest of drawers.
I walked (or hobbled, whatever the case may have been)
over to the furniture to get a closer look.
This is what I saw

My husband had carefully placed 2 objects,
the first of many trinkets,
or keepsakes,
to cherish–
The first two pieces of adornment
that would decorate her room;
decorate her new life.
He had placed a toy car next to a diamond heart necklace,
which was a gift from my grandparents to their first great-granddaughter.
A little bit of him,
and a little bit of me.
Just as our daughter was a little bit of him, and a little bit of me.
Maybe she won’t grow up to love cars, as he does,
or maybe she won’t grow up to love diamonds, as I do (although, come on….we all know that she will. They are our birthstone, after all),
but she will always have a little bit of him in her,
and a little bit of me in her,
and a lot a bit of her, that just belongs to her,
that we will continue to discover,
and to celebrate,
and to love,
with each passing moment.

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