Occasionally I go on an anti-nesting binge and clear out stuff.
Conveniently this time, we are moving, so it's totally fair game to clear out vast swaths of things in the name of "less is more" and "moving costs more if we move stuff we don't really need."
In this instance, a vast swath of baby things is being cleared out in the name of "after two freaking years of hoping, I am done with hope and saving and this stuff can go away already."
And of course, everyone in my family and several friends are all "but won't you need it again? Won't you have room to store it?"
Since this whole infertility/miscarriages thing has been pretty private because, well, because we're pretty private and I'm probably ten times more private than the spouse, it doesn't make sense to anyone else. They figure the fact that we own a 4 year old and have no other children is on purpose. Ha.
Eventually we went with the "we don't know when we'll have more children, and any more children might not be babies, so we don't need to move all this stuff 'just in case.'" story.
And of course, the spouse is all "you know, the best way to get pregnant is to get rid of all this baby stuff" and I scoffed. Right. As if, after nearly 2 years, we'd finally get lucky again and things would go right.
And the Divine laughed at the idea that I knew what was coming next, and the test was positive. It's out there and if things go well, we'll have a spring break baby. Holy Hannah. Not sure whether to cry or laugh or both. For now, the blogging and a lot of naps and all day sickness.