Yesterday, I cleaned the nursery. I put away little boy clothes and pulled out little girl clothes. It was something I needed to do by myself, it was a time for me to cry if I wanted to cry, think about what I wanted to think about, be excited about the things I wanted to be excited about.
Putting away Rip's things was something I have been dreading, and it was just about as emotionally draining as I imagined it would be. At the same time, it was healing...I came across some of Rip's ultrasound pictures, and he and Gracie have almost the exact same profile. I do believe that there is another little boy in our future somewhere, and I looked forward to bringing those boxes back out when that day comes. And I had time to talk to Rip. I needed that.
I also washed all of Gracie's clothes (and I do mean all...girl has a wardrobe). It was something I did not get to do for Rip, and I enjoyed it. Smelling and folding all those little pink things and putting them in their proper place was so satisfying...I think I spent at least 30 minutes just examining my handiwork Lining up little shoes, laying out pretty pink blankets, hanging up teeny dresses on teeny hangers...it was real for me then, there is a baby coming!
When I woke up this morning and peeped in the nursery, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Gracie is coming, and we are getting ready for her...but in doing so, I lost nothing of Rip. So today I am going to pat myself on the back...I did something hard and worthwhile and now I can keep moving forward.