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Great Expectations
Journal entry #3
November 21, 2001
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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.
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