Last week I dropped off a bunch of Michaela’s baby gear and a few other things that she no longer uses or wears, to be sold at this massive children’s consignment sale that was held this past weekend here in Syracuse.
I could have gotten 70% of my sales if I volunteered to work a couple of shifts, but instead I took the lazy girls way out and opted for no work and 60%, which raked in a check of $257.40.
Not too shabby for a bunch of “stuff” that was taking up more than half of our storage closet, right?
To be honest, I had a difficult time sorting through all of the tiny clothes and choosing what meant something to me and what didn’t … what should stay tucked away to show Michaela years from now, and what could go on to bless another small newborn bundle of joy. And about the baby gear? Well, I figure that by the time that we decide if we want to add to our family, other “newer” swings and rockers will be out that we can buy.
What I didn’t anticipate though, was picking up the check, and wishing that nothing had sold and that I still had every bit of Michaela’s newborn baby “things” stuffed away in our closet.
You see, it was kind of weird when it was all said and sold … getting rid of all of her special baby things that were carefully chosen for her for a 6×2 piece of paper that is strangely worth $257.40 … and the whole way home I kept trying to remember the last times that I had put Michaela in her swing, or rock ‘n play, or monkey bouncy seat … and I couldn’t pintpoint those moments. I couldn’t remember.
I mean, how are you supposed to know when you’re doing something like that for the last time … especially when you’re so excited for your child to move on to the next big milestone.
And what else have I missed while wondering what she’ll do next?
Last night Michaela was having a difficult time settling to sleep. I read her stories and sang You Are My Sunshine and hummed Ava Maria and rubbed her back, but she wasn’t having it until she laid her chest across mine. Our breaths became one, hers quickly became deep, and she was asleep within one minute. My baby girl needed her mommy … and instead of slickly peeling her off of me and quietly sneaking away to finally get to my never-ending list of To Do’s, I kept humming to my sweet girl and truly savoring the next ten minutes, knowing that it very well could be the last time that she needed me like this … and that I still very much need my baby girl, too.