Over the past couple of weeks I've been slowly working on the nursery. It started with clearing out the closet and putting a few things into the attic and the storage closet outside, boxing up some things, and just relocating a bunch of others. Most of it found its way into our closet. After everything was moved out of the room, my mom and I vacuumed the carpet (3 times) and then used the carpet cleaner and worked a little magic. My dad and Steve Trotter were actually able to install an outlet inside the closet--my mom and I found a panel that was covering electrical and it turned out to be able to work as the outlet, so now I can put a light inside. My plan is to put the girls dresser inside the closet and use that as the changing table. It will work out really well and give the rest of the bedroom a lot of other space to be used.
Today went and bought paint and supplies and chair rail. I've decided which design I want to do for the room, and it's not like what I had pictured several months ago, but I think it will work really well. Here's my Paint version of what the walls will look like:
I also washed the walls and baseboards today to get them ready to paint this weekend. Of course, Chemo was interested in absolutely everything that has been going on in there. I moved her litter box and food bowls into our bathroom so she's still adjusting to being in a different part of the house and still believes that room belongs to her. She's been good company to have though, and always comes up and purrs at me and wants to see what I'm doing.
Tomorrow I plan on painting the baseboards and door frames and do a little bit of other prep work on other areas of the walls. It doesn't sound like much, but it will be exhausting for me, that's for sure. Then, Paul is coming over on Thursday with his saw to help me measure and cut the chair rail and then Friday I hope to paint it in order to give it a few days to dry before I put it up (after the other walls have been painted of course). Kyle is coming over on Friday to help me tape off the walls and frames and everything before your mom comes over on Saturday to help me paint. I'm not planning on doing a lot of the actual paint work, and I'll make sure all the windows and doors are open, but I am using the pregnancy-safe paint and I talked to my OB about it at my appointment this afternoon so she's aware of my plans. She didn't seem to have any objections, and just made it a point to mention that I'll probably be uncomfortable and sore more than anything. I'll make sure to hit the hot tub in the evening.
This has been a good distraction for me. It gives me lots of time to think about you in a lot of good ways instead of letting my mind wander to what I usually think about. Instead of getting lost in the fact that you're not here, I'm able to think about things that we did together (I'd see something in the closet that would remind me of something we did together or something you said, or something that happened with us) and it's good for me to remember those things instead of trying to avoid them. I hate avoiding anything to do with you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I never want to avoid that. It has been hard though, in the sense that I thought I'd be doing all of this decorating with you instead of by myself. I'm glad we were able to talk about what we wanted together and I'm glad that I'm able to keep that in mind as I make these decisions, but this is supposed to be a happy time in our lives, but you're not here to share it with me, and I can't really be happy about it. I think it helps me get through things when I know that they are things I have to get done. Like this nursery, for example, I have to get it ready otherwise I'll be stuck with a boring white space to shove all of our kids things into and have no decent place prepared for them to live. I want you to be here to do this with me, and to do all of the other things with me that are upcoming that I'll have to do by myself. This endless state of wishing for things that can never come true is exhausting, and yet, I cannot bring myself to stop. It's all I want--it's like a thirst that I can't quench. I wish you were here with me, and I want you to come back so I can have you again.
So for now, the room is coming along, and I'm doing okay with it on my own. It's overwhelming to an extent (emotionally and physically) and it's therapeutic at the same time. I miss you so much, but I love that our girls will be here soon and then I'll have two pieces of you again. I love you sweetheart.