We started giving away our baby items this past summer, using some of them for gifts for family and friends who were expecting. But with our home study approaching, it's come time to clear out most of the baby gear. I've been rearranging many of the rooms in our house, trying to make it abundantly clear that we do have the space, and we are as ready as we can be without knowing number, ages, or genders of the children that we will be matched with.
The receptionist seemed surprised to receive quite many items and thankful; she made it clear how much it was appreciated and would go to those who needed it. She even let us know that many of the women donate the items that received when they no longer need them.
Everything delivered, we stepped back into the hallway, and I started sobbing. Though we are still working with PPVI, we have no expectation that treatment will work. I no longer expect to choose names, see our child on an ultrasound, experience all of the highs and lows of pregnancy. I no longer expect to be the only mother that our children will have; I now expect to have to hide my distress when "You're not my real mom." is hurled at me again and again. Though it's been an extended process, donating all of these things has been the biggest, most concrete step of letting go. And it hurts.