little goodbyes

So, I've been holding on to everything baby since Sean was a baby. This made sense, because when Gia came along the swing, jumperoo, playmat, etc. were reinstated. Now, all but the high chair are outgrown and I need to say goodbye to these things that clutter my house and that my niece needs for her baby born just over a week ago. But how to let go?

I imagine a third baby, even though I am half dead with the two I'm raising now. Eric is at peace with two children, and I'm certain this is a financially motivated decision on his part not to mention that we are not spring chickens at 38 and 36 years old (he's the older one!).
I'm having trouble accepting the fact that I'm most likely done. It must be biological, this feeling I have, as if once the baby switch goes on, I feel a drive to create more. The two I have are wonderful, so why can't I stop there and be happy and done with it? I think of my half sisters' children, three apiece, and those third children in the line-up are such great kids. I am my mother's third. What if she had stopped at two? I imagine my third floating around in space wondering if I will let them in.

So, I'm going through the motions as if I am done making babies. I'm getting the baby stuff together for departure from my house. The hardest by far are the clothes. I'm going through them painfully (Sean's clothes, for my niece's new baby is a boy) and can't believe he was ever so small (he's not yet 3). I picture him in this outfit and that one and my throat gets tight. I am mourning my babies even though Gia is just shy of 8 mos. and still very much a baby.

Sean had my undivided attention, and Gia is forced to share. Do I even play with her? I'm certain I was reading books to Sean by this age that she's at but haven't even picked up one for her. It angers me that I don't have or make time to play with her as I would like. I can't retrieve moments back. I don't know why I am being so damn dramatic about it. It is not as if I never had children. People say, "enjoy this time, you don't get it back" and "they are only so little for so long" and this sends me into a panic because my time with my children feels like sand slipping through my fingers. I am so exhausted. Gia does not sleep as Sean didn't. I reach the end of each day with a nagging threat of regret that I just didn't enjoy it as I should have. Or maybe I am and am too tired to realize it.

Sean is starting preschool in 15 days. He'll be going 5 days a week, 3 hours a day. I think he's bored as hell around here with me and the TV and his baby sister. This will be something that is all his and is a good thing. I have to keep telling myself that. I need to find a way to face these little goodbyes.

xo

p.s. Sean, you call suitcases "supercases" - so cute, my little man...