I had been doing really well.



I had managed to detach myself from about 90% of Catherine's outgrown clothes sizes newborn through 3T.

We had 1.5 days of yard sales.

But sold very little of her clothing.

We found another bin.  "3-6 months" it was labeled.

Planning Round 2 of the yard sale, I started digging through it tonight.

Pricing.
Sorting.
Matching.
Tagging.

And suddenly I came across her "Miracle Swaddle".

And the tears just flooded out.

The hope has run out.

The ache has overwhelmed me tonight.

A week ago I was fine.  I was "in the zone".

I could - and did - rationally and unemotionally explain why it's best to get rid of all these items.  How maybe someday we can "parent" in non-traditional ways.  How if, by some slim chance, another child joins our family he or she may be older.  How the basic necessities are really quite minimal.  How we can borrow things if needed.  How it's freeing to allow ourselves to let go of these material items that hold us back and keep us in a waiting pattern.

A week ago my words prevailed.

But tonight the raw emotion wins.