A Crisis About Clothes

I’ve been having a bit of a crisis about baby clothes. Or more specifically, about baby clothes not fitting our baby.

Since we’ve elected not to find out the gender of our child, we actually haven’t bought that many clothes. This is partly because we might want to buy some more gender specific clothes once they’re born, but also because it’s actually remarkably difficult to find that many unisex clothes, even in newborn size, unless you want to dress them purely in white or cream. Most of the ones that we have found seem to have a bit of a boyish bent too, but I may just feel that way because I’m convinced we’re having a boy. So we’ve bought a small selection in a mixture of Newborn size and 0-3 months size.

The problem is that I’ve completely convinced myself that we’ll be having a big, fat baby. And lately, I’ve convinced myself that big and fat means way more than 10lbs, which means that “Newborn” size (generally “Up to 10lb”) won’t fit even when they are actually a newborn. For some reason it’s become the focus of all my fears about the baby’s size. Ridiculously, I feel sad, to the point of tears, that some of the cute sleepsuits we’ve got might not actually fit our baby. I’m also worried that because we’ve divided our buying between the two sizes, we might find that we have way too little stuff to actually dress them in, if half of it doesn’t fit at all. In really irrational moments I can actually imagine the midwives tittering about the silly girl who didn’t bring any clothes to fit her baby, as they try to rustle something up to dress it in whilst Ian makes a mad dash to the shops in the first hours of our baby’s life.

It may seem like a silly thing to worry about, but it’s actually keeping me up at night. Along with the question of how much to unpack and wash. I can’t decide whether to keep some of the newborn size clothes and vests in their packages and unwashed, until we see if we will need them. That way, we could swap some for the next size up. Or do we just swap them all anyway, on the basis that 0-3 is likely to fit pretty much from birth in any event, and that way I guarantee not wasting any clothes. And not feeling bad that I don’t get to see our little bundle in some of the stuff we’ve picked out. These thoughts go round in my head at night, chased by all the numbers I’ve seen on my meter that day as I try to calculate the probability of not having a big, fat baby

Written down like this, they do seem such silly, trivial worries. But they represent something much deeper for me. It’s this nagging fear about having a big baby, which leads back to the worry that I’m not doing a good enough job of looking after myself to keep him or her safe. I’m even beating myself up with sleepsuits now. Teeny, tiny cute sleepsuits, but they pack a right punch.


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