Babies have a lot of stuff. Our house is overrun. Play mat and mamaroo in the living room, exersaucer in the kitchen (another one in the loft), an entire bathroom full of baby paraphernalia and toys abound! And the clothes, don’t even get me started on the clothes… I welcome it all, though I am a bit of a minimalist so the excess stuff bugs me a bit, but it’s all for our baby girl, so it’s ok.
As she began growing out of things, I’ve started pulling them from drawers and putting them in boxes; either keep or donate/pass along. We have a rock n’ play that she no longer uses, sitting in our bedroom and the mamaroo is gathering dust. But what to do with all of it? We live in a condo, and space is limited. We don’t have anywhere to store all of this excess baby stuff for the next one, if there is a next one. At this point we don’t know if we want another, and if we should be so lucky to have another we don’t know when it would be, or if we have a boy the clothes will be kept all for naught.
The thought constantly niggles in the back of my brain. We have so much, and we are so fortunate; do we want to start all over if we have another? It wouldn’t be the end of the world but for now these are cherished items that I’m not far enough removed from to be able to let them go. And from a practicality point it would save us a lot not having to replace everything. I hate that it’s something I constantly think of.
I suppose it’s not just an infertile problem but I feel it weighs more heavily on me because what if we decide to try for another and it doesn’t happen? When will we be ready to try again? These boxes of clothes and the yearly storage fees for our frozen embryos feel like pressure all over again. I’ve always leaned towards only having one child, or at least spacing two out by several (3-4) years (if I am so lucky to choose that route and succeed in having another) so it sucks to have this tangible reminder of the decisions to come. No matter what we choose, both paths bring difficulties. We either enter back into treatment to pursue another child and all of the emotional turmoil that brings up, or decide our family is complete the way it is and make a decision on our frost babies. So that’s really what it boils down to, not so much the space the stuff takes up in my house, but the weight it places on my heart.