I Couldn't Do It

I tackled one of my least favorite projects this weekend... the semi annual closet clean out and clothes change!  

I remember doing the closet change at this time last year, pregnant with Abby.  I was in the process of sorting through Noah's 7+ years of stored clothes getting ready to sell them all to friends.  I needed room in the storage room and well, I thought Abby would likely be our last baby.  As I cleared those bins and got through the sadness of "letting go" of those material items, I felt peaceful about it.  And I remember thinking how nice it would be to be able to also start eliminating the mountains of stored away girl clothes that stack up in our storage room year after year.  

You see, I thought I would have a feeling of "done-ness" after Abby's birth.  After all, I'm old, have bad pregnancies, and very fussy/colicky babies!   And so I anxiously awaited the time when I would sell off all of my maternity clothes... making more space in my crowded closet and hopefully making a bit of extra money through the sale.  And I similarly awaited the time when the storage bins of girls clothing would start to decrease in our storage room.

So when the time came to mark my maternity clothes for the consignment sale, I laid them all out on the couch ready to evaluate their selling price.

But something happened.

I couldn't do it.

I couldn't bring myself to part with all of them.  My feelings caught me off guard; especially given Abby's young age and the fact that she was still in the height of colic torture.  I attributed my surprising feelings to being overly hormonal and decided to only part with my least favorite items and store the rest away.  Out of sight.  Out of mind.

Or kind of.

The idea of whether or not we are "done" is never completely out of mind.  Perhaps it's because I routinely get asked the "are you done now?" question as it relates to whether or not we will have another baby.  The question irritates me because I don't know how to properly phrase my response.  And I consider it somewhat presumptuous that people feel a loaded question about such a personal matter is appropriate chit chat.  Nevertheless, I usually answer this question honestly stating something about how we feel like are probably at capacity but we will ultimately leave that question up to God.  

And those feelings are honest and accurate.

For the most part.

I think.

At least those are the feelings my head tells me I should be having.

My head says we are at capacity.  We can't handle any more chaos.  We need sleep.  We are old.  We aren't good at staying calm, cool, and collected with the kids we do have.  We need sleep.  We need a lot of sleep.  

But my heart...

Apparently it is not completely on board with my head.

Because today, when I started to pull out the tiny baby clothes from the drawers in Abby's room, a lump welled up in my throat so large and so painful that I had no choice but to give in to it and let the tears begin to flow.

Those tiny clothes, many of which have clothed the tiny bodies of all three of my baby girls, represented new life; babies; specialness; blessings.  They represented beginnings; not endings.

And I couldn't do it.

I couldn't just dump them in the consignment sale tub.  

Something about it just didn't feel right.  

I know they are just clothes; material items that can be replaced if necessary.

But something about parting with those particular clothes forever felt much too final.  

The peace and feeling of "done-ness" I thought I would have about all of this wasn't there.

Not at all.

And so I packed them back up... inside the 0-6 month Spring/Summer tub.  

I don't know if I will ever open that tub up again in anticipation of welcoming another baby girl to our family.  The next time I open it up, it may well be to take those clothes to a consignment sale or give them to friends.

But today, I just couldn't do it.

My heart is not sure what it feels; other than a bit of grief over how fast time continues to move and how my busy life gets in the way of being present in the moments of having a sweet little baby in my arms.  

So for now, I still have maternity clothes hanging in bags in the upper reaches of my closet.  And I have Spring/Summer baby girl clothes packed away in my storage room.  And I don't know if I will ever use them again.  

But that's the great thing about NFP and being open to life.  I don't have to know.  I can let my head and my heart take issue with each other and ultimately, God will reveal His plan for our family to me.  Even if my heart eventually falls in line with my head, I know that if God feels it best to bless us with another baby, despite my best discernment to the contrary, His sovereignty will always prevail.  

And so once again, I find myself feeling ever so grateful for the Church's wisdom and inerrant teaching on all matters of life.  Because my human head and my human heart...

they can't do this on their own!