02 March 2013
I knew I did this for a reason.
I went in our back room the other day--our catch-all guest room/storage/sewing/playing Room of Requirement--and I saw this sweater hanging there. It's the little cardigan I started for Imogen way back when. Before we knew about her heart defect, before we knew she was a she. Just as soon as I was able to trust, after no small wait, that this pregnancy would stick, I cast on. The knitting got me through those early days after we learned of Imogen's diagnosis, through rounds of appointments to confirm the worst, and again was at my side as I started to share with friends and neighbors our family's uncertain future, our great hopefulness.
Right now, when moments of hope are sometimes harder to come by, it is so good to find little signs of the future lying around the house. I'd say the cardigan (from this pattern) is about a 12 months size, maybe more for my tiny wisp of a girl. I chose the buttons after we looked at the gender card we'd saved from the sonogram, a sweet scalloped pattern on wood circles that makes the sweater just a little more girly than not. I hear that some older toddler and preschool girls start to form all-pink or -purple opinions in this princessy day and age... I have nothing against princesses, really, or pink, but then again I think I will take my chance to dress Imogen in some more offbeat colors while I still have a say.
Do you hear me? Going on and on about toddler fashion. What I meant to say was--making things helps. Both to take my mind "off it all" and to bring me back to it. I look at this sweater and it reminds me that there is a time beyond this struggle. Not a time without struggle, necessarily, but a time past this one. The stitches I made to mark the steps toward Imogen's birth are now the fabric, tight-woven against fear, that reminds me to keep walking through this dark valley toward whatever tomorrow holds.
Even (especially?) if tomorrow is all pink polka dots and glitter.