Steps in Optimism

As far as I know there is no 12 step program for leaning into hope. There are just the simple things. You pray. You wait. You talk to those who understand and listen. You laugh with your family and play games. You walk the dog and soak in the beauty of a cold, snowy day. You just live. And occasionally, you take little, intentional steps in optimism.

When we moved here, we were leaving behind a house that had been big enough for more children. A room that had been set aside, decorated and readied for a little one and, thankfully, used more times than we could count for dear friends' little ones even while our own never got to call it home. Leaving behind a room like that and what it meant led us to hold off on a nursery here. Heal a little. Live with a room filled with a futon and original nintendo with a closet stuffed to the gills with infant accessories, but mercifully shut most of the time.

We did change a few things right off the bat.

For instance, this was the room when we moved in:

  Pink Ribbon wallpaper with cream and pink walls. A few people asked me if I might just keep it that way until we found out if we were having a girl but pink ribbons just aren't my thing.

I lasted about three months with the pink before deciding that, no matter how long the final transformation of the room would take, it had to go now. I wanted it replaced by something that could eventually be a nursery color but that would work in the meantime for a place for us to sit, read, play nintendo and host the occasional overnight guest.

So,  I stripped the wallpaper and tried out various colors.

I finally decided to paint one wall with stripes in a medium gray and the other walls in the same gray. That was quite the production but after a lot of help from a laser level and my husband, we had stripes to fill in!

And we lived with the room in its lovely grayness wondering when it might be transformed into its ultimate purpose, knowing we didn't want to rush into an act of optimism that might only cause us pain if it remained empty.

Wisconsin, though, has provided lots of fodder for hope. Lots of possible babies, birth parents looking at our book and even strong possibilities of a match. And with the healing that time, God and the gray nintendo room have brought, we decided it was time to get ready.

So, I dusted off my creative art skills, we cleaned off the changing table, dragged the crib upstairs, unpacked the boxes and washed the clothes. We even ordered a car seat. Talk about optimism. I will confess, however, that I'm leaving it in the box for a little while. Sometimes a step is just a little too big.

After about a week of fun activity and inspiration from Dr. Seuss himself, here is what we have.

Ready for a little one. One blank wall left for a name over the crib. But essentially, our current pillar of optimism that in the near future, we deeply hope, will be filled with laughter and cries.