2 weeks ago we moved S into her first proper ‘big girl’ bed, and said ‘so’long’ to the cot, the cot which we’d had for 3 1/2 years and that had housed F too. Once the new bed had been ordered, and even when it arrived, I didn’t really feel any particular emotion- if anything I was quite excited to be moving forward to the next stage of S’ life and development.
It was only once the lady who had bought it from us on Ebay arrived to collect it, that I suddenly felt quite sad, and wondered if we’d done the right thing- should we have kept it in the roof just in case we change our minds about having another baby? (erm, doubtful- the thought of going through extra years of sleepless nights, when our two don’t sleep well even now, is frankly horrific!). Should it become a family heirloom?
It seemed so silly to get attached to something like this, and I’m quite ruthless with myself (hello, potential hoarder tendencies!), but STILL…
I asked the lady if it was for her little one, and she said that, no, it wasn’t, but it was going to a good home… turns out she was a foster mum who looked after babies and toddlers who had had a shaky start to life. Call me a sentimental sap, but I welled up a little and it made me feel a million times better knowing that something that had been quite precious to us, was going to be slept in by little ones less fortunate than our two, and by little people who wouldn’t mind the few teeth marks on the side of the cot, or the scratch on one end, as long as they had somewhere safe and warm to lay their heads at night.
The transition from cot to bed is certainly an ordinary moment, but one that often comes with a sense of sadness as the loss of the baby stage, and the excitement at the emergence of a little boy or girl.
I’m just so glad that the sadness in our ordinary moment, was eclipsed by the slightly extraordinary lady, and the special home our cot was going to.