We are coming up on two months since our darling boy made us a family of four. As expected, it goes by so quickly. And once again, I am humbled being lucky enough to love, raise, and parent a second amazing little human with so much to bring to the world.

I have had plenty of time with my thoughts during overnight feedings in the nursery, so it seems fitting to share my reflections through the lens of a room that feels so good that almost every person who walks into it has had an audible reaction about it. But it certainly hasn’t always been that way.

When Jenn and I first moved into this house, I was in the midst of a major shift in my purpose and role as I exited my 20 year corporate career in the branding/marketing industry and Jenn’s corporate career was expanding in exciting ways. I ended up the one spending time getting us nestled into this house. Upstairs, the smallest bedroom with only one window and a brick wall for a view was the last to be set up for obvious reasons. In fact, we used it as the unpacking/organizing spot for a while.

Over time, we tried to give that room a lot of different purposes. It was a catch-all room of misfit items, a place to play guitars on occasion, and a place to try to cultivate a creative painting hobby. We even said good-bye to one of our beloved pets for the last time in that room. It was just a room of random uses and happenings.

In 2018, however, when a family needed our help to care for their 3-month old, I spent a number of overnight feedings sessions in there for the first time. Of course, being a temporary spot, I sat on a futon and my body itself was the rocker of the little lady who ultimately convinced us to get ourselves in gear to become parents through adoption.

As we got ourselves partnered with an agency and put countless hours into home study tasks and various trainings, we decided this room might make a cozy nursery. We painted walls a gender-neutral, soothing green. We refurbished two pieces of furniture – one that was Jenn’s as a kid and one that we bought together early on. We built two new pieces of baby furniture. We chose a comfy glider chair we both liked. And we put up wall shelves and selected wall hangings, too.

We spoke to each of our kids and their birth families, most often in this room, very intentionally before we knew we were connected to them. We vulnerably felt a full range of deep emotions in this room before we became parents of our children, too. We imagined our future and really yearned for that to become true.

We’ve described in this blog waiting for Darby the most – the excitement and anxiety of waiting. We’ve written less about waiting for Daxton as the world became a much more complex place with the global pandemic impact. The typical waiting anxiety for Dax was on steroids to the point where we had a hard time going in that room, because our fears became bigger than our hopes. The baby bathtub, furniture, car seats, and a ton of other baby items were stored in this room during the wait too – ready to jump into action. But, truth is, as the end of 2022 appeared, I was thinking about when it may be time for this gear to move on and who we could help with it.

When we now hold our handsome man and our kids are both excited to see each other in the morning and when the baby gear again fully clutters our house, I am truly humbled with gratitude. We are the family of four we hoped to become. And our journey together is just getting started.

And the main wall hanging we chose that still hangs above the changing table, it takes my breath away. Not only have both of my kids stared at it as babies intently, but, most importantly, the painting told us what would happen all along. First, we will have a daughter. And then, a while later, we will have a son. (And maybe at some point, Jenn or I will don a red dress…no news yet on when that might happen.)

And so, our little room found its purpose as an amazing nursery welcoming our amazing little humans. And so, too, have my soulmate and I found our biggest purpose in this one precious life, loving these amazing little humans with all of our hearts.

True, sleep is choppy and scarce for now. But, I wouldn’t have it any other way. You can’t really see my light on unless you are our next door neighbors overnight through the one window. But it’s on again as Daxton and I glide ourselves to sleep when his belly is full.

We love you Darby! We love you Daxton! And we love you, villagers. Thank you for joining us on this journey.

~ Love, Baba