As much as I think Shelagh and Patrick are pragmatic people at heart, I imagine that they might spoil their children sometimes: Shelagh will probably express empathy for Timothy’s situation, and do everything she can to fill the mothering-role. Both Doctor and Mrs will most likely dote on a baby of their own (like parents usually do).
I haven’t decided on a mental floor-plan for their house yet, but children, like some animals, tend to mark out their territories - consciously or not - soon enough. In the days before stair-gates and those little round things you put on the edges of tables, I envisage a big cupboard/bookcase full of toys and knickknacks standing in the corner of a room, with a rag-rug in front to save either anything that falls down, or growing feet and chubby knees from the cold floor. The top two pictures pretty much only show hand-me-downs and second-hand/flea-market treasures, which could very well be from the 50s. I know little about dating furniture, but I do like the curve on the cupboard.
A newborn needs a little teddy-bear, but it is the blanket that is of most interest here. A lady made lots of white crochet-squares a long, long time ago, but put them aside because she could not think of what to do with them. Eventually they were left to their own devices in a storage room, until they were unearthed not so long ago by the lady’s daughter. The daughter stitched the crochet-squares together, and presented the blanket to her daughter, who has given birth just this month to, yes, a daughter. I’ll have to wrangle this a little for it to fit my CtM headcanon, but I’m a bit weak for a happy heirloom story, so there you go. Perhaps Shelagh travels back to Aberdeen and finds the squares in her old manor? Or will they be the work of her former sisters at Nonnatus?
Finally - the prints! I wish people were as brave today with the crazy prints as they were back then. The orange may feel a little 70s, but this is for a children’s chamber, so I shall claim that poetic licence, and say that it’s legit.