We finally found a house to rent! Great news- we get to move again. Actual great news- we will have a yard!!
Tonight, I started going through boxes from storage.
One of the first ones I opened was the box of baby clothing. The next one was maternity clothing.
I broke down crying, unable to even go through the baby clothing- I told Steve to just put it in the donate pile because I don’t want to go through it.
I have such a weird mix of huge feelings.
I don’t want to be pregnant again. I hate being pregnant.
It’s not socially acceptable to say that. I know so many people who desperately want a baby. People who say things like, “I would give anything to have a baby”. I sound ungrateful or like I don’t understand, but that’s not it. I don’t regret being pregnant, and I’m thankful for my children, and part of me really wants another baby. I still do not want to be pregnant again.
For me, pregnancy is terrible. I throw up from about week 6 until I am holding my baby in my arms. I get incredibly anemic, my migraines are out of control, and my depressive tendencies go into overdrive.
So while I don’t want to grow another baby, there’s something so sad, so final, about letting go of little tiny shoes (that were probably never worn because why do babies need shoes??).
I have no problems letting go of other things- for example, a ball that rolls around the floor on its own and shouts, “play with me!!!” when unattended.
Baby clothes were harder to let go of than I imagined.
I could keep them and make a quilt, or something else along those lines, but I would rather give them to someone else who can use them.
These emotions were so unexpected. I am ready to be done with newborns, but moving on is harder than I anticipated. I guess it always is.