Which limbo you ask? Some of you might remember that I wrote about having a second child or not. Or wanting a second child or not. The question was complicated only because though I want a second child (sometimes more and sometimes less), my husband doesn’t. He feels that one is enough, that we should cherish what we have and that our art won’t survive the stress of going through the first year again. I don’t have any arguments, just a feeling that I want a second child. My body wants a second child. This is one of the reasons that I get a little depressed every month. Not pregnant.
But there are good arguments against a second child. So we use contraception and officially I have been through with this decision ever since my period was late in January and instead of being happy I was shocked.
But all the time I boxed up all the clothing that my son had outgrown. In our attic there was a big pile of boxes neatly labeled with sizes and content. The last time I put something up there I was surprised at the sheer amount of stuff I had been hoarding.
Then my MIL wanted to sell the tricycle. And I thought, why not. And the next thing I knew I was putting up the big stroller for sale too. I was lucky, both was sold, and I had the privilege of meeting the happy buyers. There’s a happy little girl with a new tricycle out there and a mother expecting her second child who loathed her old stroller and hopefully will love the used one that I scrubbed all the rust off.
Selling the stroller was easy, because I secretly wanted to have a different one ever since my son turned a year old or so. But then I started thinking (again, I don’t know what possessed me): How long did I want to keep all that baby and toddler stuff? What if there were no second child? Which is highly likely. I’ve always said that I’ll keep everything until my 40th birthday. And that by then I would be too old anyway. And somehow I feared that the minute I gave everything away I surely would get pregnant again. So I thought I’d better keep it a bit longer. But about two weeks ago I decided to trust in the universe. I’ll give the things away. When there’s no second child, there’s no harm done. If there is a second child the universe will help us to raise it.
So I’ve been spending days and days sorting baby and toddler clothes, ferrying everything to the secondhand shop. It was a very intense emotional experience. Having a stranger go through the clothes that you loved to see your precious child in, with a very critical look. Rejecting things for no obvious reason. Or for an obvious one like she already had shelves full of shoes.
So now almost all the clothes are out of the house. In the course of the next three months I’ll see whether somebody wants to buy them or not.
Is there anybody out there needing a breast pump?