The Last Baby

Y’all. I’m falling so hard for this baby.

Even with the middle-of-the-night feedings, I’m still completely enamored with him. I’ve always loved my babies when they reach this age. 

Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE newborns, but it’s mostly because they are so soft and cuddly and sleepy. However, then the newness sort of wears off and you’re stuck with this completely dependent being who is just trying to figure out how to be a human and is more than a little bit frustrated by the task.

Then, the skies clear. 

They start sitting up and LAUGHING and eating solid foods and being particularly fond of YOU - the momma.

I just love it, but it’s more than even that.

I think I’m falling so hard for Felix because I know he’s my last. With time and space, I’m realizing the difference between sadness over the end of something and the longing for it not to be over.

I’m so so sad at the thought of being done having babies. I am. I’m sad that this completely defining phase of my life is coming to an end. Becoming a mother has made me feel more myself than any other experience of my life. For so long, everything else felt like rehearsal for real life. Then, Griffin was placed in my arms and it felt like the real show had begun. 

I’m still sad I won’t have a girl. I’m sad I won’t be the person people ask any more about baby products or sleep training or breastfeeding.  I’m sad to be saying goodbye to the intense intimacy of caring for an infant. 

However, with careful reflection, I’m realizing I don’t really want to do it again either. 

Everything beautiful must come to an end and, even if I had another baby or even a daughter, nothing would change the fact that this a temporary gig. And, as hard as it is to think about, I’m ready to start moving forward into the next phase.

Of course, everything worth doing is always mixed up with hard, sad emotions. That’s what makes it special and this is no different. Acknowledging to myself that Felix is my last baby has made every moment so much more precious.

With Griffin and Amos, I was so insistent that Nicholas and I share all the tasks equally. We took turns at bedtime and diaper changes and feedings. Now, I find myself gladly taking over Felix’s bedtime. I hold him close and I smell his head and I try desperately hard to store away forever how he looks up at me with those big eyes or how he buries his head in my chest or how he sighs when I start to sing our special lullaby. 

These moments are so fragile and wonderful ... and finite.