I gave a baby quilt to a friend who became new mother last year. I live in a country without much/any quilt culture (comforters and duvets from IKEA are standard). She asked what to do with it and I told her to use it however she wanted! I told her it was very washable and fine as a blanket. She seemed confused. Not sure how or if it gets used now. But I know I spent some hours thinking happy thoughts for the baby and mother as I worked on it! As a gift, its out of my hands and I can't determine the role of it in their lives. It truly is the thought that counts! To me, making a quilt for someone is a such a lovely meditation or prayer for them-- excluding the time spent ripping out seams and cursing like a sailor over mistaken measurements.
As a child "my" quilt was something I rescued out of the back of the family van. Sun-bleached, it lined the back-back of the Suburban, making it a play-pin for my sister and I on road trips. Probably not a very safe idea now, having kids tumble around untethered in the backend of a van, but I have fond memories. I became very attached to it and as the thinner fabric wore and tore through, I still dragged it around and snuggled it to bits. Though I want it to last forever-- I can't imagine repairing all the "memories." I just want to love it until it completely disintegrates.