I try not to get too wrapped up with “things” in any way. If you give me a beautiful note, I will cherish it for a day, and then I will throw it into the trash. Not because I don’t love you, but because hanging it on my fridge and then putting it in a drawer and the filing it and then eventually throwing it away in five years when I clean out the overstuffed cabinet does not make me cherish it any more. But I love you for it, because hand-written correspondence is very rare these days. So very thoughtful of you.
I was going through stuff for my
garage sale baby boutique this weekend. First I had to sort through all of my maternity clothes. I found myself reminiscing about both pregnancies, and I was struck with the finality of never being pregnant again. Which then brought up a flood of thoughts about our journey to become pregnant, and the pregnancies that did not last, and then the joy and anxiety and resulting miracles of those that did. I had a little moment of emotion as I realized that journey was over, and even a bit of sadness that I would never be pregnant again.
Then I started going through the baby clothes. Again, I was overwhelmed knowing that we are totally done with the newborn stage. (Yes. We are definitely done. Don’t ask me how I know. Because Mark asked me specifically not to blog about the minimally-invasive outpatient procedure that has given me that assurance. So I’m not blogging about it. Here is me not blogging about it, honey.) I am so glad we are done. But I was a little weepy as I put the price tags on all those 0-3 month clothes, knowing that I would never be holding a baby of mine at that size. And then I got a lot weepy thinking about how fast these kids are growing, and how I can’t believe that Karis is already so big, and CAN I JUST FREEZE HER AT THIS AGE PLEASE? Because I can’t bear for her to not be this delicious little baby forever. Nor can I bear to see Jafta and India get any older, either. They are just so cute and perfect at the stages they are at right now. (Other than the whole “independent toileting” factor).