It is funny what things get to – engage brain, engage logic and yet still it is the little things that can undermine hard fought invulnerability.
Today I am starting to sort through our baby clothes, taking bags down from the attic and getting ready to send a package of small, loved things from my girls over to my sister for her to use for her baby.
I have held off sorting out and getting rid of our baby clothes for longer than I should have. Twice last year I thought we were going to have another baby to use them and so there was no pressing need to move them out. Now I have to face up to the fact that there is no baby to use them and it is much better that they are used rather than sit up in our attic reminding me of what might have been.
We are doing the same with the toys – I have kept things that could have moved onto a good home for longer than I should have and now we are sorting through.
And yet, I have kept a few things to one side, reluctant to draw a complete line under baby number 3 and our hopes.
But I guess that the reason I am feeling so low is that this sorting out, this starting to get rid of and let go, feels like it is the beginning of me admitting that perhaps we won’t have another baby. Perhaps deep down I am not there yet.
Who knows? All I know is that today I feel incredibly sad, incredibly regretful about what might have been.
Time to go upstairs and get back to sorting, time to focus on the happy memories associated with these teeny tiny clothes and move on? Probably. Just allow me to wallow for 5 more minutes please?