Material Items Matter

I tried thinking of a title for this post, and I really can't think of something that "fits".

How do you explain to someone that hasn't been through what we've been through, that material items do have meaning?

I'm not a hoarder, by any stretch of the word. In fact, I throw out A LOT that comes my way. Or donate a lot. More the latter, now that I think about it.

But some things, you don't want to get rid of.

Your high school yearbook, pictures of you and your bestest gal pals circa 2004, a favorite college tee that has holes in it, or even concert tickets from your college days.

You don't want to get rid of these things because they mean something to you and they evoke happy memories. Smiles. A time that you didn't want to end.

I have a few of those items.

And I was hoping my Bob double stroller would be one of them.

 

We bought this stroller exactly a week before my life was turned upside down. A week before its purpose was to be stolen from us. To have my two girls sit in it, side by side, and go for runs and walks with mommy, playground and maze trips with daddy.

The Bob had so much meaning. It meant we finally had our two children. Two beautiful girls that mean the world to us and are our everything.

It meant the baby I had prayed for for over 13 months, and prayed over for 9 months, was finally coming, finally here.

It meant my sweet M was finally getting a sibling. A little sister she still asks about and says good night to.

But we don't have Brielle here in our arms. We don't have a newborn to wake up with during the night for now.

So the Bob was sitting in our family room, a constant reminder of what we are missing.

The Husband and I deliberated for weeks over what to do with it. Do we just put it in the crawl space and forget about it? Do we return it? Do we keep it close by in case we need it in a year?

What do we do?

Hubs left it up to me, and although it was an unbelievably hard choice to make, we ultimately decided to return the double stroller.

If we decided to have another child, how old would M even be? And, would she need a stroller by then? Probably not.

So we returned something that I had visions of using for years. Picturing my two girls holding hands in it, laughing, hearing a baby toy go off on one side, hearing M sing on the other side.

We returned the stroller and I cried at the store.

The associate had to ask why we were returning it and if anything is wrong with it.

"Well," I said quietly while my husband and daughter stood next to me, comforting me with their presence.

"We no longer need it..." I sighed and then added, "my daughter was stillborn..."

Regaining my breath, I added again, "Soooo, we don't need it now."

The associate looked like the breath had been knocked out of her, mouth dropping to the floor.

"Oh I'm so sorry."

Us too, Buy Buy Baby Associate.

Us too.

Because although I cried while we were returning the double stroller, it wasn't just the stroller itself I was saying goodbye to and crying about.

I was acknowledging that the visions and dreams I had that included and surrounded the use off said stroller were in fact, no longer going to be a reality.

I was saying goodbye to a part of my hopes and dreams that included Brielle.

And that hurt.

I turned to my husband as I cried, and saw tears in his eyes too.

We know it wasn't about the Bob all on its own.

And we know this sucks and the pain is never ending.

But we also know one day we will have time with Brielle.

We just want her here on Earth with us, for that time with her to be today.

I just want our baby back.

That's all.