With piles of Katie’s clothes all around me, and my Aunt Peggy sitting across from me on the floor, I lifted one tiny, pink item at a time, and shared a precious memory with each.
They were stories of firsts… day at the ocean, Christmas morning, visit from the Easter bunny, journey to Maine, camping trip.
We wouldn’t need those clothes any longer. We had two children…a girl and a boy. Our family was complete.
My cousin has a baby girl, sweet, beautiful Penny, to whom I wanted to give those clothes. I knew that my cousin would love them as much I had.
I separated a handful of things that I couldn’t part with, the ivory floral dress that Craig chose for her that she wore home from the hospital, the pink and white seersucker outfit that she wore on her first birthday, her first pair of Mary Janes…things that held so much emotion in them that I will forever keep them.
Perhaps one day, I’ll pass them on to Katie, but, probably I won’t.
My aunt patiently listened to all of my stories, she was exactly what I needed for her to be…curator of the love tied up into those clothes. She gently folded each item and we shipped them all back to Maine.
We wouldn’t need them.
Matthew was our last child.
But, somewhere, deep inside, in that place where you tuck things away that you are hesitant to speak of, Craig and I weren’t certain that we were done.
One night in January of this year, over a quiet dinner, Craig and I admitted to one another that we’d like to have just one more baby…that we still have enough love in our hearts to welcome one more child into our family.
So, we’ve taken a detour. A happy, unexpected detour.
We are hoping for just one more baby.
Boy or girl, the next baby will be wearing Matthew’s clothes, because we gave nearly all of Katie’s away.
And if you have any baby dust to spare, we could really use it.