Introducing Hester Willa

Since the beginning of January, Petunia and I have worked hard to renovate our second bedroom. We stripped its grody pearlescent wallpaper and painted the room a pretty butter yellow, then ripped out its nasty cat pee carpeting and laid a laminate wood floor. [Our cat Reuben is supervising our work in this photo.] More recently, we framed some Cleo the Cat cards with paper we found at Papersource, decoupaged a switchplate with that same paper, and hung some colorful paper globe lights. We're considering fabrics for a slipcover as well. I'm telling y'all, Trading Spaces has nothing on us! For once, I'm working cheerfully and energetically, too. That's because I know that all of this effort is for our very own son- or daughter-to-be, Hester Willa!

Make no mistake, we're not really going to call our child Hester Willa. It's a sort of pre-adoption nickname. V. old school New England, though, isn't it?

What's funny is that all this work makes Hester's arrival seem more real to me. Sometimes I worry about the details of how our adoption will occur, but in my heart of hearts I know it'll work out, that we'll become parents of the child we're meant to love. Putting together Hester's nursery is a visible, tangible sign that we'll become parents someday. It might not happen this year or next, but I'm getting more and more certain that it will happen.

Recently, someone I love told me that our wanting to start a family is "sick," "ridiculous," and "disgusting." She compared the adoption process to being gay, saying that it was just another one of my "projects." Obviously, she wanted to hurt me. She succeeded, but not as much as she might have liked. A year ago, comments like these would have turned me into a sobbing mess. Now, I have more confidence that we'll get through all this waiting and wondering, with or without the support of family and friends. We're feathering our nest for the eventuality of parenthood, and it feels really good.