Baby Clothes

I'm biting the bullet. I'm cleaning out the baby clothes. Kestrel is growing like a little weed. Just shy of nine months, he's already outgrown anything smaller than 12mos. Which means that there's a huge amount of unwearable stuff in his dresser drawers. And every time I go in there, charged with purpose, determined to clean out the clutter, I end up sitting on the bed crying. After Rowan, it was sort of like a prayer to clean, fold, and store his little things, for use again with another baby. His little shirts and pants and socks, filled with memory, put away for hope. Two little guys later, the clothes are of course stained, stretched out of shape, and not nearly so spectacularly crisp as they began; much like me, actually. I hold a tiny tshirt up to my belly, and laugh, because it's too depressing to carry the metaphor too far. But of course, once started... There's far more clothing here than we ever actually used. There are tiny things never even used, since both boys were born gargantuan. Do I keep them in hopes that a third baby might be tiny enough? Or do I give up completely, and ditch everything smaller than 12 months, on the theory that subsequent babies just get bigger? I've allowed myself one space bag for heirlooms. One small bag (shrinkwrappable, that's the thing of it) to hold the bits I cannot bear to part with, that I'll want to give the boys for when they have babies themselves. Items they wore in particularly beautiful pictures. The outfit we bought Rowan when we were in Hawaii. The jammies he was wearing the night Kestrel was born. That kind of thing. I have to keep this positive. I am giving baby clothes to people who need them right now. People on Freecycle, people who have no money and new babies who need clothes. It's silly to keep this stuff bound up in my closets forever. Energy flows best when it flows, not when it's trapped. Maybe the joy that's ground into the clothing's fibers along with the watercolor stains and the jelly streak will seep into those other children, and for no good reason one day, those babies will smile. Am I convincing you? I'm not sure I'm convincing myself... I can't separate the issue of clothing from the issue of family size. Every time I put one tiny pair of socks in the freecycle pile, I feel like I'm giving away my option for another baby. Every time I clean a drawer out, though, I can feel my energy lift, as the mash and the clutter moves on, feng shui-style. Maybe I'm clearing out the energy for another child. Or maybe I'm tidying up the energy for the two I have. Am I convincing you? I'm not sure I'm convincing myself. At all. But I'll keep trying.