And then there’s the accumulation of things. Little things. Little shirts. Little socks. Little pants. Little things. Towels and bibs and…belongings. Belonging of someone who isn’t here yet. Evidence, or rather, precursor evidence, of someone who’s still arriving. It’s like someone has moved all their stuff in, but not themselves. Like, freshman year in college, having your roommate move in all their crap. Their bed neatly made with new sheets their mom bought. Clothes, folded and tucked in their drawers, toiletries in a basket, ready for use, and yet this roommate hadn’t yet stepped foot in your shared dorm room. This is kinda like what prepping for our baby’s arrival is like. We have all these things that belong to this person who doesn’t yet belong to the world. All these…things that represent someone, that say things about them; physical, tangible, adjectives. However at this stage, it’s evident now more than ever how much the clothes do not make the baby.
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