Yes.  In a word.  Yes, we have chosen to keep Teddy’s intended room as a nursery.  That may be a little odd to some people (To those people I say; come back to me when your baby has died and we can have a chat?); but it is what we have chosen to do for now.  Perhaps it is what we have chosen to do indefinitely, I am really not sure?


Our first instinct when we returned home from hospital was to simply shove everything into that little room (Moses basket, pram, car seat) and shut the door.  I felt like sealing the door edges with gaffer tape so that I couldn’t so much as see any light creeping out from the cracks around the edge.  I wanted that room, that space that symbolised everything we should be doing, to just go away.  I was scared to go in there; that’s the first time I have said that.  Yes, I was scared to go into my son’s room, in my own house.

There was talk between my husband and I in those first weeks; “Shall we just put the desk back in there?”  Yes, we considered turning that beautiful little sun-drenched space that we had lovingly designed for our imminent arrival, into a home office.  I actually laugh when I think of those conversations now.  What were we worried about?  People judging us; talking about us; or thinking we were strange for having a nursery for a baby who never came home?  I actually have no clue what we were worried about; but I quickly realised that whatever those initial fears were, that they didn’t matter.  That room was intended as a baby’s room, a beautiful nursery; and it still will be exactly that.


After a few weeks the questions started from well-meaning friends. “So, what might you do with the nursery?”  (Said so tentatively and with fear for what the answer may be.)  My answer was the same each time;  “We’ll keep it, for Teddy’s little brother or sister.”  It is this determination, this positivity that I think has helped me believe that there is good reason to keep it.  Such good reason.  That aside, I feel so close to Teddy when I am in there.  Why would I ever get rid of a space that allows me to feel close to my son?


I feel that if I were to dismantle that nursery; pack everything away, that in some way we would be giving up on our hopes of a living, breathing baby (Or a “take home baby” as I have come to call them).  I feel like we would just be giving up; packing all of our hopes and dreams away and into the loft; never to be seen again.  Well I won’t do that.  I would rather be a crazy lady who has a nursery and no baby, than one who falls at the first hurdle life throws at her and recoils at the first challenge.  The universe may have had different plans for Teddy, and for us (for now); but I plan to show the universe exactly how this story is going to end (That will be a happy ending, by the way. Just a side-note for any of you who weren’t quite following me on this one!).

Put quite simply; I love that little room.  The light streams in and it feels so peaceful.  All of the little bits and bobs have been picked out with so much love and care, or better still made by hand.  My wonderful mum has spent hours knitting blankets, and handmade a beautiful pouffe for me to use as a footstool.  I made a mobile for above the cot before Teddy was born; hand stitching each little elephant, star and cloud.  It sounds cliché, but I made that mobile with so much love and hope in my heart.  I told Teddy all about it when he was in the NICU; and it will hang there until he has a little brother or sister to appreciate it. One day.

Elle x