Hope Chest

Yesterday I went through my hope chest again. My father built it for me as a birthday gift a few years ago; it’s cedar and lovely. He made one for my mother first, and she keeps wool blankets and sweaters in it. Then he made one for my sister Kate, who keeps her important papers and drug paraphernalia inside. Mine was made most recently, and it’s full of baby stuff.

I go through it every so often, unpacking it, looking at everything, and then repacking it. A year ago, there wasn’t much in it—I got a few outfits for that first day with Cricket—but it has filled up since the relinquishment. I now keep the books on a shelf, as I’m not sure they’d fit into the chest; maternity clothes used to fit in there, but now live in a box in my closet. Now, knowing that if I get any Christmas money I’ll spend it on baby stuff, I wanted to look things over and see what might fit. I know that it’s stupid of me to buy baby stuff: I might never be able to have a child of my own; if I do get pregnant, I may get hand-me-downs and not need new baby stuff; I have pretty limited spending money, and using it for baby stuff that will just sit in a cedar chest for years is not a wise investment. It also makes me look a bit crazy. But I know all that and I still spend my pocket money on tiny overalls and board books. So what gives?

Mr. Book sort of vaguely knew about my hope chest before the wedding, but not until we were moved in did I show him the contents—he found it pretty disturbing. While this definitely made me feel worse about my nesting, it didn’t stop me. Ruth and Nora, of course, have no idea. If I try to imagine them opening the chest and rooting around, I see them looking horrified. It’s true that for the first six months or so of Cricket’s life, I did have a lame fantasy of being able to come through in the clinch when they visited: “What’s that, he’s thrown up all over his jumper? Well, it just so happens that I have something he could wear that is coincidentally much cuter than anything I’ve ever seen you put him in. Do you want a sippy cup to go with that, or maybe a stuffed chicken?” That, thankfully, entirely subsided several months ago. It’s still true that I don’t like the same baby clothes that they do, though. (In fact, in her last email to me, Ruth mentioned that she’d talked with a birthdad who hated the way his son’s parents dressed him, and kept sending clothes as gifts. “Wouldn’t that be hard,” she said to me, “to hate the way your son’s parents dressed him?” I have chosen not to respond directly to this point.)

I’ve come up with answers to most of the criticism of this nesting behavior: I don’t have anyone who will give me hand-me-downs, and I won’t get a baby shower (I work as a freelancer, not in an office, and I don’t really have much of a social circle). If I don’t have a child of my own I can keep, I will give a whole bunch of new and some handmade baby stuff to a young, poor woman who is pregnant and worried about being able to provide for her child. If I had had an offer like that when I was pregnant, maybe it would have changed my decision—probably not, but I would have been really touched and honored. I think my main reason for maintaining and contributing to the hope cache at this point because when I was pregnant with Cricket, especially in those last couple of months, I would think, Of course I can’t parent. I don’t even have any of those tiny hats! Parents have plenty of little hats. Ruth and Nora have a whole dresser full! So if I ever get pregnant again, the hope chest will be my defense against the idea of adoption. Of course I am going to keep my child: look at all those tiny hats! How prepared I am for a baby, and how wanted this baby is! Of course I wanted Cricket, but in the absence of clothes and diapers, I didn’t think that the wanting was very important. Maybe I was right. But if I got pregnant today, I would have burp cloths, bibs, toys, blankets, and a selection of clothes that run up through 24 months. I have a mobile; I have a couple of bowls with spoons. I thought about taking a picture of the chest to accompany this post, but it turns out that I am still too ashamed.

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7 thoughts on “Hope Chest

  1. “It’s still true that I don’t like the same baby clothes that they do, though. (In fact, in her last email to me, Ruth mentioned that she’d talked with a birthdad who hated the way his son’s parents dressed him, and kept sending clothes as gifts. “Wouldn’t that be hard,” she said to me, “to hate the way your son’s parents dressed him?” I have chosen not to respond directly to this point.)”

    Isn’t that the worst/hardest???

    Granted, there are pics I’ve seen where Cupcake is in the cutest little things! But like on the last visit? (And I SWEAR I’m not complaining) She was wearing khaki shorts and a navy blue t-shirt. On a 2 1/2 year old!! Coincidentally, at that visit I gave her two Cupcake themed shirts that friends in adoptionland had given me to pass on to her.

    I’ll admit, my Mom was a clothes NUT, and dressed my sister and I to the nines, especially if we were doing something “special” like I hope a visit with our first Mom would have been (had we been adopted, and uh, in an open adoption I guess…)

    Okay, I’m rambling, but I get ya!!!

    OH, and since that wasn’t really the point of your whole post – this too: (((((hugs))))) I so get what you mean about the nesting.

    • It’s so weird, isn’t it? On one of the last visits, they talked about how carefully they’d chosen this special outfit, and it was girl pants with this really ghastly embroidery and an also-embroidered sweater vest. How…special! 😛

      • Lesbian moms and fashion faux pas, what can ya do??

        Seriously, it’s kind of a relief that we’re dealing with a kid old enough to make his own clothing decisions because I don’t have to worry about what signals I’m with my clothing choices. But it’s really not all that cute and romantic to be picking up men’s t-shirts at Target. (Okay, actually it’s really exciting and cool, but that probably has to do as much with novelty than intrinsic coolness.)

  2. My son’s parents and I also have very different taste in clothing… which I noticed big time the first time they had professional photos taken of him… pretty, but definitely not something I would have ever dressed him in. It makes me hesitant to actually buy clothes FOR him, because I’m not sure they’d like anything I picked out. Hadn’t thought about buying them to store for future kids… you may have just started a new addiction for me. Gee, thanks.

    • Ha, sorry! We did give them two pieces of clothing–a onesie and a little bodysuit–which I think he never wore. (sighs) Futurekid, if and when he arrives, will be very well dressed. 😉

  3. @Thorn (It won’t let me reply directly!): Sometimes I honestly wonder whether anyone agrees on what baby clothes are best. Mr. Book agrees with me, which is lucky and probably all that I need…but I’m sure that Ruth and Nora enjoy picking out special little outfits for Cricket (although I think they’re less baby clothes obsessed than I am ^_^;)–they just carefully pick out clothes that I hate. They are mostly getting their clothes from Goodwill, which may impact their choices. But there was this pink and orange terrycloth thingie they were much enamored of…. [shudders] Well, if there is a futurekid, you’ll all get an eyeful of the kind of baby clothes that I like best.

    But you’re buying clothes?! That is incredibly exciting, even if you can’t get teeny kimonos! 😛 I hadn’t realized that you were so far along in your process–or are they just a gift for Rowan to enjoy in his current situation?

    • Right now we’re trying not to do anything that would make Rowan feel pressured or obligated, but all three of us will be getting new pajamas for Christmas so that he can get a pair without it seeming obvious. (Well, and because I found this pair I wanted for myself, though my taste in pjs for myself shouldn’t be indicative of my taste for babies and my partner is TOTALLY horrified by my owl pajamas.)

      For Christmas, we did get him some basketball shorts with the name of the big state university and a t-shirt with Lee’s community college name on it, trying to help make the idea of college more concrete for him. At Thanksgiving, I bought him several shirts and sweaters just because he only seems to have about four changes of clothes. He’ll get money for more when he comes out of his placement, but I wanted him to have a little variety in his life!

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