The chances of Mike and I ever having another baby are very, very slim. We have accepted and are totally at peace with this. Lately, I have been making an effort to simplify my life, including getting rid of clutter. Part of the purging of "stuff" included getting rid of a lot of our "baby things". We no longer have a crib, a high chair or a stroller. Well ok, the stroller is just in the back yard, but it has officially been given "toy" status. Just now, a big, white, donation truck came and picked up two big, black, bags. One of them was full of all of my "gender neutral" and "boy" baby clothes. (The baby girl items are currently with a sister-in-law who is about to have another girl.) All week I have been dreading the arrival of this truck, because it would mean saying goodbye to so many items that I have had since our 14 year old was born. That, and a fear of Murphy's Law; for as soon as another of my sisters-in-law did the same purging, she got pregnant.
While finances are tight, it isn't so much the thought of having to buy all new things that had me worried, though there are any number of things I would rather spend money on right now. The big worry was the thought of upheaval. Where would we even *put* another child in our tiny house? With my health issues, it is important to me to have as much of a flexible day as possible; a baby would throw much of that flexibility out the window. could I even handle having another little one to look after? The way I feel most days, that answer would be "no". All of this reminds me of my favorite quote from Mother Theresa: I know God won't give me more than I can handle, but sometimes I wish He didn't trust me so much".
All this said and done, I must admit that the anticipation of letting go was much more painful than the actuality of it. When I saw the truck pull up out front I didn't feel a pang of regret, but rather of a weight being lifted from me; as if God was saying to me: Don't worry, I have this in hand, my love.
Have a blessed Easter, everyone.