Monday, September 2, 2013

sorting through clothes, sorting through thoughts

The last tote of baby clothes sits on my living room floor for friends to look through and cart away.

The logic of my mind reminds me that we made the decision a couple of years ago. My brain says being sad about it now is not going to undo anything. Crying today will not change the fact that I have an "irritable uterus," and that having one miscarriage and two premature NICU babies makes a couple decide to not go through that again.

My hopes of fostering and adopting were put on hold months ago, and it is unclear if and when we can start that process. For as long as I can remember, I have dreamed of being a mommy to four children. I feel entitled to having that dream come true, but I am not. None of us are entitled to anything. I am trusting that closed doors will someday be revealed as a gift, but it is a hard thing to trust. Some days it is hard to choose faith instead of bitterness.

Therefore I needed the closure of removing the baby clothes boxes from our tiny garage. I needed these tiny footie pajamas and onesies with ducks or puppies to find a new home.

Each outfit I  sorted through and refolded had a story and a memory.  There were outfits I could not give away because there were yellow stains on the collars from the medication and vitamins Bubby had to take. Oh the smell of mixing that up four years ago was awful! There was a pair of yellow jungle theme jammies that Bugaboo wore. I remember one of the nights he wore them that his little baby face looked so much like Papa's. There were outfits from my baby shower at the church we no longer attend and from people who have ended up not watching my boys grow up like I thought they would.

Perhaps that is why I am struggling so much today with this closure. The clear plastic box with the blue lid sits in front of me and tells the story of unanswered prayers. But it tells the story of answered ones, too. 

It tells of two boys who have been prayed about, for, and over during hospital stays, doctor's appointments,simple days, and milestone moments we thought would never happen. I will remember the good times and the miracles. And I will pray for the new little boys and their families who inherit the footie pajamas and who will have stories, prayers and milestones of their own.


  1. There's just something about baby clothes that invoke so much reflection and memories :) Bittersweet, right?

  2. I didn't know you wanted 4 children. Thanks for sharing your heart, Amanda. Children are such a blessing, and it is easy to get caught up in other pursuits so easily. I love those sweet pictures. Prayers for you, friend. Such a good Mother. :)

    1. Thanks, Kristy, for your prayers and kind words.


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