Change is in the air. The mornings are crisp and fall feels like it is approaching faster than usual. Yet, we still have the occasional teasers of warm days misleading me on how much time I truly have until I'm saying goodbye to all summer blooms. This means one thing to a mom: prepare for fall appropriate clothing.
All my coupons and
discounts led me to land on the doorstep of Kohl's. Armed with
intentions of finding soft fabrics in cute boyish style. There I was
searching the section I've always shopped in, the baby & toddler
isles. I must have circled and toured four times before finally
realizing that the sizes stopped at 4T. Confused I thought well, they
just haven't stocked a proper supply or they're recovering from all the
back-to-school sales. Slightly disappointed that I had to walk away
from my quest I wandered aimlessly about only to look up and find a cute
little vested hoodie that caught my attention in the big boy section. I
simply wanted to know it's price. Upon closer inspection it was a size
5T. I looked to my left and to my right. All of it 5T.
it felt like someone shot an arrow through my heart. I can't be in
5T. I can't be in this section - this big boy section. I don't belong
here. I belong over there... in the baby... in the toddler section.
The confusion in my mind is hard. And instantly I realize, that yes
although your child has the skills of a baby, and you still feed him
bottles, spoon feed him pureed foods, and change his diapers... he is
the size of a young big boy. I didn't like how it felt. I hate how it
still feels. It's unfair, so terribly unfair. While he's graduated
into big boy clothing, Noah cannot do big boy things.
like this make me ache with how things should have been, a glaring
reminder of more milestones that you and your child can't experience
together. Worried that other customers would detect the distress in my
face and these smothering rush of feelings that came from nowhere, I
looked through the selection of folded shirts and pants. I tried to
seem interested, focused on what I came to do. Buy warm clothing. The
graphics and prints were less than cute. Everything felt like it had a
tough edge to it. Where I gravitated towards the sweet, tender prints
of pastel blues and puppy dogs that lingered on the opposite side of the
store. But I can't live there anymore... here I am stuck in big boy
clothing. Nothing was soft, the jeans rougher than I wish they were for
Noah's delicate skin, shirts that made statements that were bold. But
I managed to find some sweatpants and a couple long sleeved shirts that
would at least get Noah started with long sleeves and pants.
nursing these raw feelings I made it to the cashier, wandering without
direction just trying to make my way to the car before shedding these
stupid tears that you suck in and suppress as long as humanly possible
so the world doesn't realize that you're not as strong as you want
everyone to believe. I probably couldn't have swiped my debit card
any faster if I was trying to win a competition for the fastest
payment. And out the door I flew and into the car fleeing for the
comforts of home, to hold that child in my arms, as I've always done
since he was a baby, as I still do today.
Noah's Miracle by Stacy Warden is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.