Rohan's room looks bigger now, thanks to the sale last night of the glider and ottoman we had in there since before Luca was born. That thing was the worst best purchase we ever made. Amazing quality at an amazing price, it was a Dutailier made in Canada and barely used. We got it for a song at a consignment store and carried it home where it lived in the front room of my ILs' house while we house-hunted. It was our first major baby purchase, and one we fretted over and researched and adored.
And then...we bought a two-story home. And said recliner sat untouched in the nursery as I nursed Luca everywhere but there: on the couch, on the recliner downstairs, at the kitchen table, on the floor, in our bed...but never, save for a few rare ocassions when company was over, in that glider. I did used it more than once to soothe a fussing baby to sleep, holding a precious infant body swathed in soft cottons close to me as I sang a song or hummed or shushed their tears. But as we looked at the things in our home, we decided that chair wasn't a necessity to keep around for the "In case we ever...." pile, and so it was time to sell.
It was with a little sadness on my part. I was actually resistant to selling, instead offering it to several expecting and new couples first (all of whom wanted to buy their own instead). But when I was at work one day Darrick listed it, and last night a man came to haul it away and leave me a pile of twenty-dollar bills in its place. I can confess here that I didn't want to let go, not of the chair, but of what it represented: our fresh-faced naiveity and the excitement we felt over this purchase for our future child. The joy with which we found the perfect place for it in her room. The professional pictures of her turning 1, sitting in the chair 'reading'. The feelings of excitement and expectation that all prgnant and first-time parents have. I was sad to say goodbye to that phase of our lives.
But the man who came to get it? There was some fate at work there. He and his wife are in their early 40s and parents to one son. "I'm too old for more babies," he shrugged, "but hell if that's going to stop us from trying for another!" Not evern expecting another yet, they optimistically and with that twinkle in their eyes purchased that same glider from us. And no doubt he took it home, unloaded it as his wife stood watching, imploring him to move it an inch or so more over there or closer to the window or maybe into that spot where a picture of our with her first baby will hang above it. Beckoning the energy of 'baby' into their home in the hopes of welcoming another sweet child into their family. And I was happy to pass that chair and the ottoman on. And I hope that sometime very soon, that nice man's sweet wife is shushing another newborn to sleep, holding it in her arms as she rests in that chair.