Hand-Me-Downs

Despite the fact that I have two boys and my sister is expecting a girl, I spent the afternoon packing up a fairly sizable bag of clothes to pass along.

I had no idea we had so many blue clothes for these kids! I suppose at that round headed, no hair, sleepy newborn phase, marketers feel the need to force us into putting our kids in obvious gender appropriate clothes to cue those we encounter that our child is a boy/girl. Luckily for my soon-to-be niece, we also had quite a few adorable sleepers and t-shirts that paired with the right ruffly bloomers or skirt could definitely pass for girl-wear.
What surprised me the most was the fact that I was remarkably unemotional during the sort. I anticipated a teary moment as I held up each tiny newborn sized garment, remembering Pumpkin and Peanut before him in it. Perhaps I would have an inability to part with a particular favorite sleeper. I thought for sure I would feel some sort of tug at my ovaries as I folded each soft little shirt and sock. I felt none of those things. Sure, I was amazed that my big boys ever fit inside that teeny, tiny little hospital t-shirt, but then I folded it and put it away.
I am excited about my sister and her husband’s upcoming journey into parenthood. I am eager to welcome another niece into our circle of family. I am thrilled to pass along clothes I don’t need anymore so that someone else can enjoy them.
And there it is. As much as I rationally know that we have a complete family and do not intend to have more children, I have recently been reluctant for us to make any permanent steps in that direction. The simple task of sorting clothes allowed me to face that emotional pull straight on and realize that as much as I love babies and can’t wait to cuddle another little one in that adorable giraffe pajama set, it doesn’t have to be my baby.
I will add this collection of clothes to the other items I will be passing along to my sister as she prepares for her first foray into parenthood. And thank her for allowing me the opportunity to find the emotional closure I apparently needed.
Then, I will go online and find the frilliest, pinkest, girliest outfits to spoil this new little girl with. After all, isn’t that what the aunt with two sons is supposed to do?
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