Near the end of my pregnancy, I was in hardcore nesting mode. All of Jensen’s clothes were washing, the diaper bag in my car, his car seat set up, the house almost ready, and I counted how many packs of diapers we had over and over again. I had to know we were prepared for Jensen and his first nights at home would go perfectly. An unrealistic expectation, of course, but I had to be sure I thought everything was good enough for him. Even though the house wasn’t done, his nursery and where he would be was all set. My world was revolving around he would be, his space.
As all moms do, I put him before myself and didn’t really care how my space would be. If he was content, I would be happy with whatever. I put myself on the back burner, not that I would have changed a thing looking back. Even after Jensen was born, I was still obsessed with his space. I couldn’t comprehend his space having to change or how it would impact me. His nursery isn’t set up, the swing isn’t in the spot I knew it would go, and his pack-n-play isn’t peacefully sitting in my bedroom. It’s been a week and a half since we moved in and I’m still looking at all those places. All the places he needs to be.
It’s okay I can’t put those places where he should be out of my head, I’ve had to refocus on how he is incorporated in our home. His urn is always in the room I’m in. It might sound crazy to you, but I do move his urn around the house. I have an ultrasound picture on the wall right beside his footprints. His silver J will be hanging in my built in bookcase. Jensen’s bedroom still has his colors on the wall, navy blue and orange. I’ve planned on ordering more remembrance items to display in the house. Every item that I bought with him safely in my belly has a story. I’m still making space for him and probably always will.
Yet, this week I was motivated to make space for me. Space to collect my thoughts, journal, and remember him in. It might technically be classified as a space for him, but it’s intent is for me. In my Mothering Your Heart workshop, we’re focusing on space. Again, I am so thankful for the loss community to help me manage my grief and help me along through this process. It’s helped me realize everything I’m going through is ‘normal’ and okay how I process it. I think space is different for everyone. For me, I had to physically make space to feel like I was connecting to Jensen. My house is so new to me and there’s no where I can really retreat from everything. So I had a huge motivation factor to help push me make space for Danielle. After 38 weeks and 2 days of pregnancy and a little over two months of grief, this momma needed a place to tackle grief and honor her baby.
That is my safe place. Yellows to brighten my day, words to help me think positive, and comfy seats to welcome my thoughts and emotions. All things to try to make each day a little more bearable. Safe from triggers, negative energy, and loss. It’s the one part of the house I didn’t have planned while Jensen was with me. That spot was supposed to house his pack-n-play. I wonder if he would like the yellow? Or would he be mad that I created this space for me? Sometimes I see it and feel guilty. I would never have bought this little space if he wasn’t here…
I second guess every move I make now that he’s not with me. Doing everything for him came so naturally. Now refocusing my attention on myself just feels wrong. My brain is at constant battle with itself. I don’t want to move forward, but I know the whole world keeps spinning. The whole world is trying to pull me along, but I want to stay stuck. Staying stuck thinking about my little Jensen is much more appealing than playing along with everyone else. I try to play along, then I retreat. I have to create this space for my reality. My two yellow chairs bring me comfort and give me the space I need to retreat from the world.
Jensen would have loved my space. He would be so happy I’m making space for myself and trying to care for my heart. I know he guided me to all the elements that occupy this little retreat.
Oh little love, how I wish I could still have you here. I’d much rather be creating space for the both of us, making sure everything was perfect for you.