Closing a Chapter
Yesterday, in the spirit of spring cleaning, in an effort to declutter and better organize my house, I did one of the most bittersweet activities a mother can ever do. I packed up the baby clothes. For my last baby. Once and for all closing a tremendous chapter of my life.
Tremendous, maybe not in length of time. But more than tremendous for my heart. It was a chapter that I always knew I wanted to be part of my story. I hoped and wished and prayed, and did not take for granted that it would happen at all. But there was little to no hesitation in the decision that this chapter would come, and be welcome.
I wondered how it would play out, how that part of my story would start and what it would be like. It consumed much of my daydreaming. And now I am on the other side looking back, nostalgic.
Such a strange thing to be sitting there yesterday putting away those incredibly tiny onesies knowing I would never need them again for my own babies. Those so called babies are massive in comparison now, and they need me for countless other things, but not to be swaddled and nursed and rocked and worn on my chest like an accessory.
My children are still quite dependent on me at ages 7, 4, and 22 months. And I have countless stages and milestones ahead of me for each of them. So much mothering still to do, so many chapters yet to begin. But it still feels so final phasing out those newborn sized clothes. The very items that all the women in my life “awwww”ed over at my baby shower. There they go into the vault, clicking the latch on the plastic storage box with a finality I can feel in my bones. I suppose in a way it has to happen to make room for all that comes next. One chapter ends, and now a new one can begin. I still think I will miss that chapter with a deep ache every now and then though.
Such a sweet and precious chapter. But a complicated chapter as well. My heart was so full but my sanity was tested. Sleep deprivation was largely to blame.
I would be lying if I said there were no tears at all.
I would also be lying if I said I got rid of every single item and article of clothing, every single snuggly hat, every tiny little sock. (In fact I think I saved a rogue single sock without a match. That might carry more meaning than I even realized at the time…)
Why did I save a random sock, a knitted hat, and a pair of footy pajamas so small I doubt it could even fit the dolls my daughters play with now? I don’t really know. I tucked them way into the back of the drawer, behind the other piles of clothes I will have to go through in several months or next year when my baby of babies outgrows yet another size. Why do I want to find them again in the future? I’m not really sure. I guess so I can stir all of this up yet again and remember that chapter over and over. What it was all about, how much I learned, who I met, and who I have become.
