When my husband Evan and I brought our newborn daughter Grace home from the hospital, I expected to find a nursery full of love and everything we had prepared. Instead, I walked into a shock. The nursery walls had been painted navy blue, the bright curtains replaced with heavy blackout drapes, and my late mother’s white crib was broken apart on the floor. The blankets she had lovingly sewn for Grace were missing.
While I was in labor, Evan’s mother Patricia had taken a key to our house and “fixed” the nursery without telling us. She claimed the old nursery was too soft and depressing, and she wanted to prepare the home for a boy because she was upset Grace was a girl. Patricia threw away the crib and blankets, saying they were unsafe and a risk to the baby.
When Evan confronted her, she insisted she was only trying to help and accused me of being dramatic. She even said that our daughter was a disappointment because she wasn’t a boy, and suggested we “try again” for a son. Evan stood firm and told Patricia she was no longer welcome in our home. He demanded the keys back and changed all the locks.
Evan searched the garage and found the missing blankets and crib parts hidden behind trash bags. We spent that night restoring the nursery together, painting over the navy walls and reassembling the crib. Our family received support from relatives who helped us make the nursery feel warm and safe again.
