Choosing the furniture for our nursery eight and a half years ago wasn’t a decision I put much thought into. I had my heart set on a Pottery Barn crib like the one my sister-in-law had for my nephew. A simple white dresser to match seemed perfect, and I wanted a comfortable chair. People advised me to try out the chairs to find one that felt right. I scoffed at needing to test out chairs. It’s a chair, you sit in it. After all, it was just a chair, right?
We strolled the towering aisles of the brick-and-mortar big-box store nearby, and I sat in all the chairs they had. They all felt the same to me, like chairs. We settled on a deep navy with a white piping rocker and recliner that also swiveled. It was comfortable and looked nice; that was the last time I thought about that chair until my daughter was born.
Naturally, like most furniture that needed to be ordered, it arrived later than expected. Thankfully, my brother was able to drive his truck to pick up the chair upon its arrival, as we were already in the hospital with a new arrival of our own. Thinking ahead, my brother put the recliner in our living room as I was recovering from a C-section, and getting up and down the stairs or off the couch was not my strength for the time being.
With my new sweet babe on my chest that first afternoon home, I began a long, supportive, and loving relationship with my nursery chair.
It started as just being comfortable during a time of immense discomfort. I sat back and relaxed as best as I could in that chair, and it relieved my healing scars. Figuring out breastfeeding happened in that nursery chair, as it gave me the back and arm support I needed to make it all work.
When that navy blue chair was moved upstairs to my baby’s room, I began spending the nighttime hours snuggled up and catching what rest I could between the night waking and cluster feeding. We shared many quiet, sleepless hours together—my baby, nestled in the chair’s embrace, and me finding comfort amidst the feedings and the quiet, or not-so-quiet moments between sleep.
As the newborn phase drifted away, the nursery chair became integral to our nighttime routine.
Bath time, cozy pajamas, and books in the chair were our steadfast nighttime routine. When our family grew from one daughter to two, that same navy blue chair once again became a refuge during night feedings and bedtime rituals.
Now, eight and a half years after buying that navy blue with white piping nursery chair, we are back to bedtime stories and cuddling before bed in its comfortable arms. It is a little less bright in color, and some rips are hidden by its cushion, but our nursey chair remains my favorite resting place.
My third daughter is now two, and each night, as we settle into that beloved chair, I am overtaken by all the beautiful memories that chair holds. It supported me as I got to know my girls and allowed me to sleep when I needed to most.
That navy blue nursery chair absorbed spit up, spilled breast milk, and my tears as a new mom trying to figure it all out.
Looking back, it’s remarkable how little thought I gave to choosing that nursery chair, yet it has become an integral part of our growing family.
