My husband and I have finally started working on the nursery.
I can't provide a good reason for why we didn't start earlier. We're not doing anything fancy—no wallpaper or pastel-painted walls; we want to keep things simple.
In fact, much to the dismay of some of our friends, we don't even have a "theme" for the baby's room. Our little one won't be welcomed home with matching Winnie the Pooh, Disney, or teddy bear accessories. I don't think he or she will care.
Something remarkable happened when my husband assembled the baby's bed, however. The completed crib startled me. I stared at it for a few seconds, my heart pounding. Then I uttered out loud, "Oh, wow."
To some it may seem strange, but seeing that crib made the idea of a child entering our lives more tangible. Of course, we have known for months that I am carrying a baby. But though I can feel him or her inside me, I can only imagine how the baby will look and act. The crib serves as a kind of visual bridge between now and then, between our have-baby-in-the-oven and our have-baby worlds.
I've returned to the baby's room several times just to peek at the crib. It's a humble reminder that he or she will soon join the household, bringing orders-of-magnitude changes to our lives.
