Reason and Boxes

The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing.
- Blaise Pascal

My pregnant life is in 3 boxes - Rubbermaid totes - in my basement. And there are a lot of reasons that I don't go into the basement - it's dank and damp and smelly and the concrete is falling apart and one of the dogs has developed an unfortunate habit of using the basement as a rainy day bathroom, and well, really, I've never liked our basement. Frankly, I've never been a fan of basements at all.

But, as I was flipping my winter wardrobe to my summer one, there were a few maternity things in the bottom drawer. I bought them last October, in the sure and confident knowledge that if Chlomid had worked on the first round last time, there was no reason it wouldn't work that quickly again. Right? Right.

I folded a few t-shirts, some capri's, a dress and another pair of jeans up, and I stuffed them into the Rubbermaid tote in the basement. And I stepped back, and realized that I could get rid of these boxes. Somewhere there was a teen aged mum who needed clothes to accommodate her growing body. Someone somewhere needs these things. I have no need of them.

My head says to find the address for the school for unwed mothers, haul the boxes out to the car, and get rid of them. Not because I am shoving pain out of the house, but because there is someone, somewhere who needs what I have, and I can help them, and it is, simply, selfish to hold on to things I will not use. My head says these things, in a reasoned and calm manner.

And my heart? My heart says - not yet.