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All bagged up and time to move on?

Today has been oh so hard – harder than I had ever thought it could be

Forgive me if I am awfully self indulgent but I need to write this down – perspective and a stiff upper lip are something I am planning on doing again tomorrow

A happy (or perhaps with hindsight unhappy) combination of an unexpected day without the girls meant I finally had no excuse to not sort through the bags of small people stuff in our loft

In a start-it-in-a-way-that-forces-you-to-finish I went up to the loft (yes the broken toe was feeling a bit better then) and chucked bag after bag of all thing baby, pregnancy and small person related down onto our bed – if I was going to do this thing I was going to do it all in one all encompassing, leave nothing behind slash and burn way.  Put it this way, the loft area is looking much much better now – just a few Christmas decorations, some bits of Mr M’s sailing kit and the computer boxes

Strangely the bag of maternity clothes was easy to sort – everything must go!

I found some horrible cushions that will go out in the wendy house and make the girls very happy

And then I had to start opening the bags of things for small people – each labelled by age ‘0-3 months, ‘3-6 months’, 6-9 months’ and on it went

I wanted to be strong and ok with doing this – I wanted the logical part of my brain to kick and take over and focus on the fact we need the space, these things need a life out there in the world making other families happy and that I need to move on

Unfortunately I was ambushed by the part of me that hasn’t accepted that This Is It – that I need to let go of my hopes, my dreams and those shadows that haunt me at times like this

I spent hours sat on our bed today sorting through bag after bag of memories tears streaming down my face that I just couldn’t stop – I wanted them to stop, I wanted to feel that this was the rational, the sensible, the right thing to do but sorting through every small outfit that our daughters have worn and that I had hoped another baby would wear somehow has unleashed a torrent of tears

I sat there crying, cuddling onto the tiny things our girls wore and that those babies we had hoped would join us will never wear and I felt as if my heart was breaking into pieces

Poor Mr M came upstairs part way through and discovered me surrounded by bits of memory, red eyed, snotty nosed and all over the place – bless him he came and held me as I cried

I have let myself keep some special things – I sort of feel as if I am cheating, especially since the bag of things I just can’t quite get rid of is so big – I’ve rationalised it as being things I’ll hope to make into a quilt or something one day and some things I hope that one day I’ll have grandchildren to pass them onto.  A part of me knows that really I need to go through that big bag and make it a smaller, more sensible one but not just yet

So here we are – that’s it – time to move on

I have bags lined up in the living room to sort, to work out where to send the beautiful little things in them – work for another day when I feel less like I’ve been through the wringer

A teeny tiny part of me hopes that this clear out will work some magic and I will miraculously end up pregnant and stay pregnant – another part of me knows that this is long overdue and something I should have done long before to give me some space and the chance to move on

But today, tonight all I know is that it hurts


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