When I was pregnant with my littlest one, I was depressed.
I didn't say it out loud really, but I knew that I was. I didn't want to go out, I didn't want to see anyone or do anything. I was worried all the time. I was in a constant state of dread, worried that I was letting everyone down, that I was destined to fail everyone.
I didn't nest at all. I told myself that it was because everything was already done. The nursery was already decorated, I had more than enough baby girl clothes. But truthfully, I had no desire to do anything to get ready for the baby. I was just so scared, I didn't want to think about it.
Then, one day, BG and I were at Target. I was walking past a display of Christmas baby clothes and I saw A Dress. It was really more of a onesie with a built-in tutu. It said "My first Christmas across the chest." And I had to have it for my tiny girl.
I wasn't 100% sure she'd even be born by Christmas, or that 0-3 would be the size she fit in on that exact day. It was extravagant, unnecessary, and completely out of character. But I had to have it.
She did end up wearing that dress on Christmas, and I have pictures of her in it, but those memories of the dress don't come close to eclipsing the memory of the first day that I had to have something pretty for my littlest girl.
I'm giving the dress away today.
I cleaned out all the other 0-3 month clothes months ago, but I've kept the tiny Christmas dress hanging in her closet. Every time I've looked at it, I've been too overcome by my feelings of guilt and joy and love and regret and relief to do anything but close the door again.
But it's time to let it go.
It's just a thing, a dress, and it's silly for it to sit in her closet having only been worn once. I want someone else to use it, to have better memories associated with it than I do. My girl and I have plenty of our own memories now. I don't need it anymore.
But I'm so grateful that I had it