Nest.

Eddie has always had a lot to say.  Not a day or a two went by in the NICU when one of his nurses would tell us about Eddie's penchant for screaming during his cares (cares are what they refer to in the NICU when the nurses take babies' temperatures, weigh them, change them, etc).  When he came home, he continued to scream during his diaper changes and his baths.  And we expected as much.  What we did not expect were his other noises, or what we lovingly refer to as his "chattering."

Rob and I first encountered Eddie's chattering almost immediately.  During his first night home, we went through our standard motions of getting ready for bed and then we carefully brought Eddie's bassinet into our room.  We could hardly contain our excitement as we readied him for bed, knowing that at last, we got what we had been craving for two long months.  Eddie was home, with us, and in the same room.  We no longer had to rely on calling his nurses throughout the night to get news and updates.  He was right there and under our roof.  But even though we were excited we were also understandably nervous.  He would be undergoing an enormous transition that night; sleeping in a new room, in a new bed, and adjusting to new sights and sounds.  Up until then he lived in the hustle and bustle of the hospital and even though there were moments of quiet and darkness, most of his sleeping took place in a lit, noisy room.  Would he be able to sleep peacefully in our house?  Would we be able to sleep at all?

We kept a lamp on in our bedroom that night.  We figured that it might be harder for him to sleep in the pure darkness since he was accustomed to light.  We also had a white noise machine on in his bassinet to break up the quiet of our house.  I do not remember when we tried to officially go to sleep but I know that regardless of when we tried that we did not succeed.  Although we were exhausted, we began to notice an uncommon amount of noise coming from inside Eddie's bassinet.  He grunted.  And then he gurgled.  And then he babbled and groaned and just when we thought he had settled down he would start again.  And on the rare occasion that he stopped and drifted off to sleep we grew nervous that he had stopped breathing, causing one or both of us to check on him in a frenzy.

We did not wise up and put him in a different room for a couple of days.  When we did, he did not go far and even then, we put a monitor next to him.  But as the weeks passed, our nerves subsided and we trusted his progress.  With each new ounce he became stronger, healthier, and appeared less fragile.  Eventually we removed the monitor from his bassinet, moved him a bit further away from our bed, and Rob and I stopped sleeping in shifts.  And as Eddie grew, his chatter lessened and his sleep became more restful.  And now, he is almost sleeping through the night.

So with much pomp and circumstance, Eddie was introduced to his nursery this past Tuesday night.

Up until this week, his room was not much to look at.  It had been a depository of Henry's belongings since we moved in last year and neither of us liked to spend much time in it.  But once we learned of my pregnancy we began to daydream of the changes we would make to it - where the crib would go, what pictures we would hang and where.  Eddie did not give us a chance to prepare his room ahead of his birth and life was too crazy to put it together while he was in the NICU.  And so he had to wait five whole months to get into his own room and into his "big boy crib."

I know that there are certainly fancier nurseries in the world, but his is one that is filled with sentiment.  Not many of the decorations, books, toys, and clothes were given to him directly but they are now his and he uses them and fills them well.  Sometimes I walk into his little room and my heart catches in my chest: Henry's crib is no longer empty.  His diapers that were once packaged and new are now being used; his onesies and overalls from Baby Gap are being worn; and his hedgehog mobile that we hung two nights before he passed away now keeps watch over his little brother.  The toys and mementos that were once his and only his are now brother's, and what were once painful reminders of a life cut short are now evidence of one being lived.

It has been a long time coming, but I think Eddie likes having his own little space to chatter in.  And I know that we like having him in it.