Sentimentality

On the little pillow that has been designated "his" lies my pride and joy, my dream come true, my golden boy who has completed my life, sleeping peacefully with his little fists raised near his ears. Yet I am saddened by the trivial act of packing away my borrowed maternity clothes, all to be returned to my sister-in-law.

As I folded the multi-colored, flower-print smock that was my favorite (and a piece that I would never wear unless pregnant), the sadness welled up in me. I've always been a packrat, something of a sentimental fool about certain items, even clothes. I tend to hold onto them longer than most people (I have a skirt that is now 15 years old and I still wear it), not only because I'm cheap but because so often they are reminders of certain times or events in my life. Silly, but these clothes are extra special to me, more than any I've ever worn.

Read more about the joys of Motherhood. Other "Now I Know" columns include:

Introduction

Clutter

Distraction

Equal Parenting

Grandparents

Memories

Pain

Photographs

Sacrifice

Preparation
Pride

As soon as these boxes arrived from Cathy, I dug in and started wearing anything that fit. I was so thrilled, ecstatic to finally be in maternity clothes. I thought about how, as a teenager, I had attempted to visualize myself pregnant in mirrors, poking my non-existent belly out whenever I wore a smock or extra-large sweater. After Jim and I began trying to conceive, I consciously stopped buying any clothing that wouldn't serve me both before and during pregnancy. I made quarterly trips to my local resale shop to stock up on stretch pants, skirts with elastic waists, long oversized shirts, always confident that these items needed to be available when "that time" came.

Four miscarriages later, I had all but stopped buying clothes, tired of trying to guess when I would be pregnant again. Once I finally was pregnant long enough to grow larger, I had only Jim's clothes to carry me through until Cathy's boxes came. Jim often commented on how "cute" I was in the maternity clothes she had sent. I think he could see how I felt wearing them -- accomplished, at last.

Now as I box them up, mission completed, I am sad to not only remember how ecstatic I was while wearing them but also by the inevitable thought -- will that have been my last time to wear maternity clothes? Part of me thinks I am childish, selfish to think such thoughts when my dream lies sleeping on his pillow in my bed. Part of me suspects such thoughts are inevitable. Will I view every incident and situation surrounding this child as potentially the last time I will experience such things? If I thought I was sentimental before, I can't wait to see what kind of things pile up in my house from now on.

"Now I Know" first appeared on Moms Online, part of the Oxygen Media network (http://oxygen.com), and is reprinted with permission.