//disclaimer: don’t worry, I never put him in there with the bumpers//
By now you’re familiar with the crazy deadlines and plans that are unavoidable in my head and in being open about this I’ve come to learn I’m not alone. So it should come as no surprise that getting rid of Mikie’s betrothed “wuby” and saying goodbye to the “cribby” was imminent. Awhile back I had decided that we would do this simultaneously. Call me insane. Maybe ruthless. Or possibly guilty of lazy parenting. Hear me out before you decide. My rationale was both of our sleep was going to be effected so why deal with that on two separate occasions. Call it what you may, but it seemed logical to me. I spent weeks upon weeks prepping him for the departure from his pacifier and when the time finally came it really was heart wrenching to see him take a little suckle of the three remaining”wubys”before parting with them. He changed into his new PJ’s, became acclimated with his big boy boat bed and even gave it a few test runs while our immediate families were over. When it came to finally going to sleep for the night, he didn’t make any mention of the wuby. It turned out it was transitioning out of the crib that was a lot harder than anticipated…for us both.
We reminded him of the new Paw Patrol toy he got for going in his big boy bed, gave gave some extra minutes for playing with some toys now relocated in his room, and a few reassuring hugs, but the tears continued to be shed for his “cribby”. It wasn’t until I went into a long rambling to explain how he was still sleeping on the same mattress as his crib that he could be consoled. I explained what the crib meant to us before he was born, when he was just born, as he grew and now outgrew it. As he became reassured that he was still safe, he drifted off to sleep all while my head became flooded with what it meant that today was the day we put the crib away. The tears poured uncontrollably from my eyes, in a way I’ve never experienced since becoming a mom.
Before the crib, I thought of the countless nights spent sobbing silently at the edge of the bed while still dreaming of what that room would look like as a nursery. I had picked out the crib during one of the many sessions I spent scouring nursery designs and envisioned how it would be the focal point of the room. Picking out the crib and its adornments somehow kept me hopeful that someday it’d come into fruition.
When we eventually got pregnant, the crib was the first real purchase we made for baby. It was so symbolic that this was actually happening for us-that it was actually our time. It was the first piece set up in the nursery and Mike used to read to my belly as we rocked and stared at the wrought iron frame. There was something so pure, something so relieving about seeing a crib finally in there.
After coming home with our son, the crib became even more meaningful. We had our first scare, the initial night we put him in there to sleep. Once we were all ready for him to permanently sleep in there, we began our nightly rituals. Frequently, when he was sound asleep, we’d tip-toe back in there to hold him in our arms in complete adoration. He resembled an angel as he slept so peacefully, coolie up, each night.
He grew and grew and grew until he would try and lift one leg over the side and we knew the end of the crib was soon. Eventually, as he became a toddler, it became filled with blankets and snuggly stuffed animals rather than that bare space when he was just an infant. It became his place, a safe-space to cool-down, unwind, and regroup from time to time. I’d open the door to give him one last peak before bed and seeing him in there would remind me of my abundant blessings. I would think back to those days when I longed to see a sleeping baby in there and how those dreams I had so long ago, had come true.
Yet, as I laid there that night beside him it wasn’t just the memories that had me overcome with emotions. It was also what putting the crib away meant. In the same way I hadn’t prepped Mikie for the transition, I hadn’t prepared myself. I wasn’t sure if disassembling and storing the crib that day was an “I’ll see you again soon” or “goodbye forever”. I’d imagine for any parent this is a hard nut to swallow, but it can be even more upsetting when it’s not your call to make. Would we ever again be setting that crib up to welcome another baby into our home and hearts? Would I ever again be holding onto the crib bars, swaying while carrying a new child in my womb? Would I ever again spend sleepless nights consoling an infant, gently rubbing his or her back as I hummed a familiar tune? Would we ever have the chance to pick up a baby from that crib again in the middle of the night just because we craved his or her touch?
The day we put the crib away was not just closing a chapter in Mikie’s life. It may also have been closing the door for good to ever having those experiences again. Like my innocent two-year old, the impact of what putting the crib away meant was unforeseen. However his resiliency has left me in awe. Never knowing if you’ll have this time again, makes you cherish every precious moment as they come, and might possibly be why I am laying down in his big boy bed every night to put him to sleep 😉.