Family life

Saying Goodbye to Baby Clothes With Love and Tears

It’s a bittersweet task that brings up all the feels

Of all the family milestones we regularly talk about — weddings, births, graduations, funerals — there’s another one we don’t discuss but that just about every mother eventually faces.

What are you going to do with all those baby clothes when you’re done having babies?

Back in the day, I imagine baby clothes were usually simply given to the next baby, and the next, until they were reduced to rags. But if you have only two kids — especially two kids of different sexes — you will have a mountain of adorable small outfits that bring back intense memories.

And you cannot keep them all.

Tiny outfits spark powerful memories.

I just finished helping my daughter with this task.

Her children are 9 and 5, and she has finally reached the point of being able to say she doesn’t want to have another baby. As for me many years ago, it wasn’t an easy decision for her to make. She loves babies as much as I do, and each of us would have loved to have had more than two if we were living in a different world.

But she’s now ready to move on from the baby stage.

I don’t know if you have ever washed, dried, sorted and folded the equivalent of about 14 kid-years of clothes. I don’t even know how many loads of laundry we did, but the baskets seemed never-ending.

I decided to snap or button everything so the place she was taking them could quickly tell that every fastener functioned.

Long before we were done, my hands began to ache.

But my heart ached more.

Every so often, I’d pull out a little outfit that would make me tear up.

The first time it happened, it was a little pink ruffled top with black polka dots — one of the first things I bought my first grandchild to wear, because my daughter had waited to learn in the birthing room whether she was having a girl or a boy.

I remember snuggling the baby in this outfit. She wasn’t even a week old. Oh, my heart. I buried my face in the soft fabric and sobbed.

My daughter removed that from the donation pile.

Then it was a dress my sister had given her.

My sister died in a car wreck less than a year ago, so anything having to do with her is likely to bring out some tears.

My daughter removed that from the donation pile, too.

All the snuggly little jammies got me, too.

As I fastened all the snaps and then folded and smoothed the fabric, it reminded me of what it was like to hold my baby grandson close. Everyone said he was the happiest baby they’d ever seen, and he was.

I could not get enough of cuddling my grandbabies. I knew from being a mother how fast kids grow up, and I tried very hard to make every moment count, but it’s impossible. You’ve only just begun to enjoy one stage when they’re off to the next.

Some of the girls’ clothes are going straight to a family friend, and it made me happy to know where all those darling little dresses are going. The little girl who will wear them next will make new memories for her mother.

But most of the mountain of clothing will end up being worn by children I will never meet. I’m happy that other kids will get some use out of them, and that their parents will get a good deal on clothes for their children.

My granddaughter tried to reassure me.

She told me I still have great-grandchildren to look forward to. Since she is only 9, I probably have around 20 years to wait. Who knows if I’ll still be alive in another 20 years?

My mother did not live to see her great-grandchildren, and neither did her mother or her mother before her. Maybe I will.

My daughter made huge strides in clearing out old clothes, baby equipment and toys, making space in her house for the things her kids are now into.

I brought home the toy kitchen I bought them years ago.

Do I have room for it? No, not really. But I can’t bear to let it go.

I wanted a play kitchen desperately when I was a little girl. We lived in a trailer and there would have been no room for such a thing even if I had been given one.

I wanted to buy one for my children, but couldn’t. Someone eventually gave us one of those plastic sets and they played with it for years.

The one I bought is made of wood — much like the one I desperately longed for as a small child. I’ll find a spot for it somewhere.

If I’m still around when my grandbabies have babies, I hope they’ll play with it.

Still feeling nostalgic? Here’s another one:

About me:

I’m a writer and editor in central Illinois. Find me on Substack, Twitter or LinkedIn. To get around the algorithm and never miss anything I write, click here.