Saying goodbye to lovies

I've heard people refer to the item a child cherishes as a "lovie," and though a weird word, it's an appropriate one. You might think this post is about one of my three children giving up their lovie, but alas, it's about me. I'm finally putting mine away at the young age of 33.
When I was a child, and maybe my parents can remember better, I had about five pillows that I slept with in my bed at all times. I can remember being four and five, living in Germany and sleeping in my twin bed with my sister across the room, and my bed was always crammed with these five pillows. One evening there was a terrible potty accident, and some had to be thrown away. I was devastated. Then, when we flew back to the states from Germany, my parents put two in a suitcase. I hated saying goodbye to them, even for a short period, but I did. Sadly, they never made it back to me. So I was left with two, and these two pillows have been with me ever since.
I dubbed them "Dirty" and "Clean." I swear I had more imagination as a child, but the names fit. Both handmade feather pillows, Clean was the larger of the pillows and had a pattern of blue stripes and flowers. This one was the one I rested my head on every night and typically left in my bed. Because of this he was cleaner than the other, hence the name.
Dirty was my favorite. A little smaller, just the right size to curve my little body around, I would tuck my arms and legs around him every night. In the morning, Dirty would be carried around the house with me, one fist gripping a corner while my other thumb was in my mouth. I can still remember the serene comfort those textures, smells and tastes brought to me as a kid. My parents would often suggest I toss them, but I couldn't do it. Over time, the corners were worn off and my mother had to stitch them back closed so the feathers would stay inside. Still, they eventually became half-full. I even tattooed them with the names of crushes as a teenager, including one Brian Harris.
When I went away to college, they came with me. When I got married, I assured my husband I loved him, but then I turned my back and wrapped my arms and legs around Dirty as I had always done and drifted off to a comfortable sleep. I wondered if I would ever be able to give them up. Sometimes I thought I would refurbish them with a good wash and new feathers, but I had a feeling they would disintegrate in the wash and I was probably right!
I finally realized I could give them up when I felt Sam kicking in my tummy. After deciding he would sleep in our bed at first, I knew I couldn't expose his brand new lungs to whatever bacteria might be festering in my beloved "lovies." So shortly before his birth, I put them in a pillow case my mother had embroidered with my name years before, and put them in the closet. I managed to learn to fall asleep without them, but every once in awhile I would pull them back out, curve my arms around them and breathe in deep. The smells would always bring me comfort.
Today I decided to clean the master bedroom and do some closet organization. Next thing I know, I'm taking Clean and Dirty out of their pillow case, their home for the least five years. I wrapped my arms around Dirty, took a deep breathe - and it was gone. Five years and the smells just weren't there anymore. The textures were still there, and it was touching how my body could still quickly find serenity in the form of this hideously old pillow. Some things will never change.
I took a pair of scissors and cut a square out of each one. It was a little thrill after all these years to finally peek inside my lovies. I plan to put them in my memory boxes for safe keeping, along with the pillow case my Mom sewed for me years ago.
Instead of yearning for those two pillows, I yearn for three little warm bodies curled next to me in bed on a Saturday morning. I hope they bring their lovies with them.