I love making memories for people. I’ve said it before, and I feel strongly that we need to record our time together. Not just the big events, but the little quiet everyday moments too. So when someone makes something unique for me that made of memories, I get a little emotional.
For a long, long time I have been looking for someone to make a quilt out of all my daughters beautiful baby clothes. (Let's just say I can’t sew to save my life) Finally I found a lovely local dressmaker from Cuddles Botique who was brave enough and willing to take on the challenge. And a few weeks later this beautiful quilt arrived just in time for my daughters 8th birthday. It was everything I wished for. Each item of clothing used in the quilt has a distinct memory for me. T-shirts remind me of chubby little arms, tiny hands and her delicious baby scent. It also brings back the frustrations, and the intense tiredness of those early days, but overwhelmingly each item was chosen with love and is filled with memories.
My first pregnancy was tinged with a little sadness as my mother was not well enough to be with me as she is in the later stages of Alzheimers. I missed sharing this new journey into motherhood with her. One thing my mother and I did together when I grew up was shop. It may sound frivolous, but shopping was our means of communicating, our little ritual. She was the perfect shopping partner: patient, kind, quiet and with the most amazing, cultivated and interesting taste in just about everything.
Thanks to the baby’s position I did not know the sex of my first baby until just before my due date. This baby pushed, wriggled and kicked so hard throughout those 42 weeks (yes a whole, long 42 weeks, but that's another story), that I was certain it was a boy. Secretly, oh so secretly, I wished quietly for a little girl, but mentally I prepared myself for the arrival of a boisterous, bouncy baby boy. During one of my very last scans in the final weeks I found out that the little football kicker in my womb was in fact, a girl. I was so excited I went straight from Kingston Hospital to John Lewis and bought an armful of beautiful dresses.
While I was shopping for those dresses, it was more than just shopping. It was my way of connecting to my mother who could not be with me. I’m so glad that I can preserve the fabric to remind me of that day. Hopefully the quilt will last long enough for my daughter to pass it on to her daughter, and her daughter’s daughter. It is a love song as much to my mother as it is to my daughter. I know she would be so proud of my amazing little girl. It is a memory that connects and binds us three together.