Last weekend I completed the most difficult remodeling project I've ever had to do. I took down Ellie's room, painted the purple walls gray (a painting project I have wanted to do since moving into our house), and filled it back up as Mason's new room.
In two days it went from this...
to this
We did this much sooner than I anticipated we would, but it was time. From the day I came home from the hospital without Ellie, her room no longer felt like the room I knew and loved. Ellie's room was a place of constant activity. Even in the dead of night when everyone was sleeping, her room remained alive with the whirring and humming of her machines. Without Ellie, her room fell still and silent as if it had died right along with her. Then the awful day came when they picked up most of her machines. I had dreamed of the day I would watch the truck drive away with all of those big, obnoxious machines, but never once did I imagine it would be under these circumstances. It felt like the truck was backing out over my heart as it pulled away. Once her machines were gone it no longer looked or felt like her room at all. I've read stories of couples who have lost a child that leave their room set up for months or even years and it is a place where they go to remember their child. This was not the case for me. I couldn't even step foot in her room without feeling myself start to hyperventilate as I tried to fight off the flood of anxiety that hit me. It was such a real and painful reminder of the hole she left. Not to mention that Ellie's room happens to be prime real estate in our house and Mason, who so desperately wanted his own room, has been using the office on the main floor as a bedroom. It was actually working out really well, but a couple weeks ago he very sensitively said to Scott, "You know, I've been thinking....since Ellie isn't using her room anymore, I was wondering if maybe we could switch her and my rooms so I could be upstairs with the rest of you." We knew that we would eventually move Mason up to her room, but since we weren't really going to switch their rooms, how were we supposed to go through and just box up all of Ellie's things and put them in storage? We weren't ready to do that yet. More than any other piece of furniture in her room, Scott and I were not ready to put away the changing table. That changing table felt like the essence of Ellie's room. Many of our sweetest interactions with Ellie took place while leaning over her on our little work station. I knew I wanted to have Ellie's hand and foot molds somewhere in our room and was looking for the right table to display them on until one day, a light bulb went off in my head. I could move Ellie's changing table into our room and fill the shelves with all of the items from her room that we weren't ready to put away yet. We have a little reading nook in our room that has always been one of my favorite places in our house and I knew it would be the absolute perfect place for it. We moved our bookshelf and reading chair to the now vacated study and brought in the changing table and chair from Ellie's room to make what is now my Ellie corner.
It turned out perfectly and I absolutely love it. It has all of the wonderful and happy memories of Ellie's room without the big empty void that her room carried with it. Some things might seem odd or random, but each and every detail has a special meaning in my heart. I have already spent many hours curled up in my Ellie chair reading books, watching shows, or writing posts for this blog. It is a healing place for me.
I couldn't have done this without the help of my mom who came to visit us for fall break and kept the kids entertained for two straight days while I worked. Scott took a day off work to be there as I went through the slow and emotional process of sorting out Ellie's things. We took down the crib that has been used in our house for 7 1/2 consecutive years knowing that we will never use it again. We went through her drawers of clothes picking out all of our favorite Ellie outfits to keep. We went through the many boxes of supplies we had and packed them up to donate to families in our community who need them. It was all very hard to do, but now that it is all done I feel much more at peace in our house. I have been able to keep little reminders of Ellie throughout the house, while eliminating a lot of the pain. It is just another step forward in our grief.
