I’m pretty sure that each pregnancy now I’ve shared about a converted piece of furniture, so why not keep tradition alive? I don’t think I know how to birth a baby without redoing or purchasing a repurposed dresser first. I’m not sure why it’s always a dresser, but maybe that’s practical. I mean, there has to be a place to put all of baby’s things, right?

Buying a dresser was on my radar again this time around, but not for the nursery. I assumed baby would sleep in our room for a while, and I wanted a piece that was changing table height to be multifunctional. While we were away in April, I saw an ideal-looking dresser newly-posted on Instagram by a thrift store I enjoy. Never does it work out that you’re the first one to comment and place a hold on items like this, so I halfheartedly called to see if it had already sold. As luck would have it, it was still available and I bought it over the phone, essentially sight unseen. This feels risky when it’s a piece of furniture that I’ve never looked at closely, smelled the inside of, or tested out for hiccups. Still, we came home a week later and lo and behold, this dresser was everything I’d hoped. It was a super lucky find for the right price at the right time. And now that it’s up in our room, I still love it as much as I did the first time it caught my eye. It’s mid-century modern, the wood is in beautiful condition and the drawers are in amazing shape. I happily figured I’d end my dresser search there.

Fast forward to a month or two ago and J suggested that we’d want a changing table in the baby’s room. I have to say, the thought hadn’t really crossed my mind. I’d just figured that by a few months in, we’d be changing baby on the floor and not need a surface. Generally, I find reasonably-priced changing tables to be somewhat unattractive, so after a few half-hearted attempts at looking, I shifted into dresser mode again. I went out in search of a quick and easy solution the day after the 4th of July. I actually prayed on the way out that if I was supposed to bring a dresser home, I know so because I’d find one that fit the bill for a really great price. I had in mind to make two stops, max, and then to call it a day. On my first stop, I made a pass through the store and spotted a dresser that seemed just the right size. The wood was solid, the drawers were in good shape, and when I turned the price tag over, it had been marked down from $260 to $74. I’m not sure why I even debated it at that point. Sold. I’m sure the girl at the shop and I were quite the sight getting it into the back of the car, but we did it. And then I brought it home and proceeded to debate it for a week, until not having a dresser in the nursery started to stress me out. I know, I sound a bit off my rocker. The rocker will be a subject for another day. In the meantime, I’m just trying to capture the “essence” of this stage of pregnancy, and apparently dresser decisions are right at the top of the list of things I worry about. Go figure.

Today, the dresser is on a drop cloth, smack in the middle of the baby’s room, with a newly painted top and further revisions about to take place tonight and tomorrow. I have a thing. I don’t know how to explain it or why. What I do know is that getting this dresser sorted out feels like the lynch pin in a process I’m just so anxious to finish. The room is really not that complicated and I just want it done. I might even dare to say I need it done, in that I’m not feeling peaceful about anything in its place since it’s not actually there. And if this little one is going to arrive in the next month, I guess I’d better get moving. What a weird space to be in, feeling like this. But I am, and it’s what it is.

Aside from my being consistent about dressers and things, something that’s new to the picture lately are the Braxton Hicks I’m getting nightly. I wouldn’t share this fact if I thought I was close to labor. I’m sure I’m not. But fourth pregnancy this far along and the body knows what the body knows. This is a great sign that things will be in working order in a few weeks. Meanwhile, I think I’m making people around me nervous unintentionally each time I note another contraction. We could do this all the way up until August 20th, people. That would be akin to the last two weeks of my pregnancy with C, only right now they’re just sprinkled throughout the evening and not lasting hours on end. That was really something, and while every ounce of it was worth it, I don’t plan to live that story down to the detail again. We’re aiming for something else this time around. Since every birth story is totally different, I think we’re safe to assume that this sweet little tale will have its own purposeful ending, too, but I’m getting ahead of myself now. For tonight, it’s the dresser. And bedtime. And tomorrow, it’s a drop-off and a playdate and work to-dos and probably more painting. One. Day. At. A. Time. It’s really what’s best–certainly in this season, and probably always.

MM