Deep thoughts

This post on BlogHer that was written by Mel really got me thinking. Enough thinking that I actually signed up for an account just so I could comment. My comment almost turned itself into an entire blog entry, so I thought I'd bring it here and expand on it a bit.

My comment there reads:

When we first started TTC, I went shopping crazy. Well, crazy for me, anyhow. I bought anything and everything Tigger related I could find: toddler toothbrushes, crib and twin sheet sets, pillow to match the sets, bibs, a rocking tigger (like a rocking horse), a car window shade. If it was Tigger and I saw it, I bought it.

We're going on four years now with no luck. We're no longer actively ttcing. Two years ago I put all the Tigger items into a storage unit,for use at a later date (theoretically). After reading this article, I realized something that I have no answer for and that makes me slightly panicky: My inlaws are moving out, and all my things from the storage unit are going to be coming back into the house. That means that all that baby stuff I've stashed is coming back too. I have to find a place to hide it where I will never come across it again. Why don't I get rid of it? I can't bear to. If I do, I feel like I really AM giving up.

I can understand the no-longer-in-the-trenches women who feel hesitant to buy things. I can understand those who have and are now terrified. It's as if by purchasing something you're just tempting karma to come get you. But if you don't, then those who don't understand you guilt you. I really don't think there is a win on any side to this whole deal.

I thought about my comment the entire time I was taking my lab exam. I thought about it while I read the paper during lunch. I'm sitting here in the computer lab, thinking about it again. I read Mel's response to my comment and thought some more. I thought about all the room we're going to have when the in-laws move out and yet I don't seem to have a place to hide something. Having it in storage is one thing - I rarely go to our storage unit. Putting it somewhere in the house where it could leap out and get me at any moment, or cause me to look sideways at the closet where I put it every time I see it doesn't sound like a good idea to me. I can only think of one thing to do with it - use it.

You see, the current space plan is this: Aaron and his friends are going to use the back living room as a place to game every Saturday. This means that Fred and Wilma will be coming over and bringing their children. Attached to the back living room is the room that MIL & FIL are using for their bedroom, complete with a closet. We're planning on putting the spare twin-sized bed back there and turning that room into a place for the children to play. It will give them a place to play, and they'll have to get past everyone to get into another part of the house - which is forbidden, because the house is not child-proofed and I have no plans to make it so. The bed will give them a place to crash if it's time for bed. So...perhaps I'll put the twin sheets on that bed, put the rocking tigger out for the oldest to play on.

Perhaps being confronted with things on a daily basis will make them lose some of their power. It's the fear of the unknown that gets us, I think. No matter how much we know, we still can't control or know everything and it scares us. We allow things to have power over us, such as I have with these toys. Yes, I bought them for my someday child. There might still be a someday child...but in the meantime, shouldn't these toys be loved for and used by children, even if it's not mine? Why am I so afraid of these items?

I knew a girl long ago on the WebMD JSO forums who used to try on all her clothes with one of the big salad/mixing bowls strapped to her tummy so she could see what the specific clothing item would look like when she was pregnant. I remember thinking "Why would you torture yourself that way?" and that was BEFORE I ever knew I was infertile (or subfertile, according to one doc). About a year ago or so, I went shopping for shirts and a comfortable bra. I knew that, given my body shape, maternity clothes are actually fairly flattering on me...so I went to Motherhood. When I went to try on a shirt, there was a foam "belly" in the dressing room...presumably so you could see what the clothes would look like when you started showing a little more. I debated with myself, and then put it on and tried on my shirt. I showed my husband, then took off the shirt and belly and left the store. Why did I torture myself that way, knowing what I do? I don't have an answer, except that my brain said "This is the only time you're going to see yourself this way."