The Crib

The End of an era

     In actuality, there were two cribs. The first, purchased at a local thrift store. Previously owned, still in good condition. We, as new parents, and new homeowners, trying to conserve money decided it was a viable option. Not the crib in the magazines, not the crib of our dreams. A sister loaned us a bumper pad full of bright colors guaranteed to make our child start learning from his very first moments. That crib filled us with such excitement, visions of first child, a first creation.

     Eventually, that same crib housed 4 children. Each child being summarily pushed out of the nest by the subsequent sibling. Each graduating to a bed while the new baby made good use of the crib. After 4 children, the pre-owned crib developed enough cracks and bends that it needed to be replaced.

     This time, however, we decided to purchase a new crib. Still not the crib of our dreams, but a real improvement over our starter model. A crib that could house more children, and eventually grandchildren. Hindsight says that perhaps, had we started with a new crib, we would have been able to use it for all of our children. They say hindsight is 20/20.

     Four more children have put that new crib to good use. There are teeth marks on the rail, dents from toys tossed with too much exuberance, the springs under the mattress have managed to withstand jumping not only by the baby, but also by the siblings, as they have sometimes sneaked in, one by one to entertain the current baby by pretending they were, indeed, monkeys, jumping on the bed.

     This week – for the first time in 17 years, there is no baby in our crib. My emotions have fallen short of my expectations. There is only a hint of sadness, no tears, and little longing for days gone by. This causes me to wonder. Now that my baby is three years old, what do I feel? It is not a yearning for another baby in the crib.

     Strangely, the empty crib has brought with it a feeling of finality. An overall satisfaction of a job well done. I feel as if Bob and I have completed one part of a task that we set out to do. I remember dates spent, long walks, learning all about each other before we were married, talking about the elusive future. We agreed then that eight would be our ideal number of children. Reality set in with each child. There was always the thought, the question – could I really do it again? After child number 6 was born I was ready to be finished. Ready for a break from the constant demands placed on my body, on my time, and on my sanity. I feel exquisite gratitude for a Father in Heaven who seems to know me better than I know myself. Who sent me two more children to help me feel whole……complete…..satisfied.

     I am so grateful for the crib, now standing empty in the guest room. Willing to be used by whatever parents have a need. But my profound gratitude exists with those eight babies who each took their turn in the crib. For the memories created, that will last me a lifetime, each time I pass by the crib.