Before having children, and even after having Annalie, I was always set on having at least three kids. I’m not really sure why three sounded right, maybe because two kids seemed the norm (and who wants to be normal these days) and four kids seemed like a lot. Three just seemed like the perfect amount for us…until we had our second baby. Now, Stella was not a difficult baby. She was actually quite easy. But going from one child to two is a huge eye opener. No more sleeping when the baby sleeps (because chances are the other child will be awake when the baby is sleeping). No more getting a break when Dad takes the baby (because you’ve still got the other child to tend to) and no more getting anything done while the two play together, because although they do play nice sometimes, it usually only lasts about five minutes before they are fighting over some toy that neither had any interest in until one of them picked it up. Now don’t get me wrong, I would absolutely love to have another baby. I would love to be pregnant again and I would love to have a tiny little squishy to hold and dote over. But Vince has made it very clear that he is perfectly happy and satisfied with our two girls and I just can’t decide if one more child is right for us.
So, when we learned the news that Vince’s sister Anisa and her husband Rory were expecting their first baby, I was more than happy to hand off all the baby stuff to her that was collecting dust in my garage. And when we found out they’re having a girl, I also promised to pass along all of the baby clothes that my girls have outgrown. And even though Anisa (who really wants us to have a third) insists that all of this baby stuff is just on loan to her and she will hand it right back when we have our next baby, I think deep down I realize that this might be the last time I see any of these things and each time I hand off something to her, it makes me so sad. The baby gear wasn’t too hard to hand off because I wasn’t too attached to it, but going through all the baby toys was tough (and I confess I kept Sophie because I just couldn’t bear to part with it) and for some reason I just haven’t been able to part with the baby clothes yet. I know I’m being ridiculous and in reality if we do end up having another, I know she would happily return everything, but I think the hardest part is knowing that there is a good chance that we won’t be having any more kids and this really is the last I will ever see of the teeny tiny newborn onesies and little caps and socks and all those miniature things that you can hardly believe your baby fit into.
So, with each item that I hand off, I feel like a little piece of my heart goes with it. A piece that remembers those early days spent laying around with a sleeping baby on my chest, washing a tiny little person in a tiny little tub and rocking in the chair snuggled in soft fabrics and receiving blankets. Those days passed by way too quickly and I will always look back with fond memories of the times I had a tiny little baby to take care of.