Letting go

Josh is at daycare today, and I should be studying, but I really really really wanted to get some of the baby stuff packed away.  So I took the plastic bins up to his room, and pulled all the receiving blankets and burp cloths and boppy pillows out of the drawers and placed them in bins.  Then I took them into the currant storage room and placed those bins on top of the other neatly labeled bins, the ones reading maternity clothes and newborn/0-3 months and 3-6 month baby clothes and 6-9 month baby clothes.
And as I wrote receiving blankets/burp cloths/bibs on an index card and taped it securely to the lid, I wondered why.  Why am I keeping these?  In hopes, however vain, that we'll have another child? Why am I using up precious storage space(we have a large house, however, there's no storage.  Not even closets in the bedrooms) on the almost impossible chance that we'll have another baby?
And suddenly I realized how silly that is.  There's no purpose on holding onto these things.  I have a beautiful little boy, and that is one more child than I was told I would be able to have.  Joshua is very likely going to be an only child, and I have to accept that and move on.

So I'm getting rid of this stuff.  There are a few special outfits I plan to keep, but the rest of it is just stuff, and it isn't stuff I need to hold onto for a sliver of hope.  Tomorrow is our very important(and scary) critical care paramedic certification exam, and then I'm going through these clothes and toys and bassinet and things, and letting go of most of it. 
It feels good.