I buy stuff for the baby I don't have.
Seriously, all the time. Shiny blue plastic vintage hair clips shaped like whales. Fabric with the letter B for my last name Brown. A chenille blanket with a fawn on it from a church yardsale. Mostly though I buy books, and art. This baby already has a library and an art gallery to rival any museum. I choose books that have off-beat illustrations, or books with just pictures. Most of the Miffy books by Dick Bruna are in my collection. Plan on getting some for yourself here. The author/illustrator Chris Van Allsburg is another favorite. His books can be found here. I imagine hours of reading on blankets in parks on summer days. You will find us snuggled up in a quilt when it's cold and rainy with a new treasure of characters. There is a small room underneath the stairs in our home (yes, exactly like Harry Potter) that will be a reading nook one day. The nursery is planned in my head. The theme chosen. Wallpaper pinned on my Pinterest board. If you like, you can take a look here I have funny prints of animals in suits purchased from amazing artists I have met at art shows. There is a cute and tiny frame with two ladybugs holding hands I just bought this weekend I am excited to place on the wall.
We imagine our child's personality. Funny like Ethan, or moody like me? Quiet or shy? Will they be a Doctor, an Artist? What will we do when they act like a brat, or when they break a bone, or leave home for college? We recall stories we will tell about our grandparents gardens, the wars they fought in, the trials they overcame. We will welcome them into this family, into this world with excitement and expectation.
If I could just get pregnant.
Sometimes it seems like my life is consumed by seeing those two pink lines. They have become a symbol of womanhood, of worthiness. I live in half agony, half hope. My friends and family all have multiple children. I see others get pregnant by "accident." I scroll through Facebook posts full of sonogram pictures. I attend baby showers with increasing frequency. I do share in the excitement, and joy, but carry the tiniest tinge of pain. I have to be honest. I wish it was me. I want that. I want the bump, the need to pee all the time. I wouldn't even mind morning sickness. When I hear mothers complaining about a crying toddler, in my head I whisper: "I wish I had a crying toddler."
Why, you may ask, do I have a child-based business? How sad, how tragic, you may be thinking, that the woman who surrounds herself with baby related products, that spends so much time sewing for others babies can't even have one herself. Well, I started Fawn before we even started trying to have a baby. I never thought this would be my path, but now that it is, I am choosing to walk it boldly and honestly. I believe we are given tasks to make us stronger, and to be able to make it easier for someone else. Only by sharing and opening yourself up can you be truly helpful. I will be writing more about it as I walk through this journey to motherhood. I will be a mother. I will stand in my decorated nursery with all my plans, and brain full of parenting book knowledge, and listen to the small inhales of breath from my child. One day I will be able to exhale knowing that they are here, with me. Finally.
You may, like me, have been waiting for years to see those two pink lines. To hear the sleeping sighs and morning cries. You are not alone. Many women wait with you. I wait with you. Do not be ashamed, or sad, or scared to tell your story. You have no idea who you may be helping. Get a journal, write it down. Work through your emotions and feelings. There is strength in your struggle, and your heartache can be someone else's hope. Read this. Pray. Pray all the time. Follow this blog for support, inspiration and encouragement. Start your own blog. Just find a way to empty your full heart.
And do not feel sad for me, I am not sad, I am not broken. I am not less of a woman. I am just a dear future mother, waiting. Collecting books, collecting art. Collecting hair clips shaped like whales. Waiting for curls to pin them into.