Last updated on July 26th, 2023 at 03:01 pm
When babies don’t keep
My baby is growing up! All the trite sayings are true: Children grow up fast.
Where did the time go?
Why do you no longer lay placidly in my arms at bedtime and instead throttle yourself over my lap with the speed and eagerness of a young cheetah?
As I reflect on my daughter’s first year, I find myself experiencing that paradox of motherhood. The one where you are excited for your child to grow and develop and learn new skills but also find a pang of sadness lingering, like leaving behind a stage is relegating that part of life to memory.
Some of the stages we were in were so involved I referred to it as my second job. Nursing and pumping and combo feeding specifically made for a packed-full schedule. For a while, milk was life, for both me and my daughter.
And now, twelve months later, we’re fading out of the stage. Soon, it’ll all be just a memory. I’m grateful, and I’m also sad, and I can’t entirely rule out the possibility that I’ll be weeping in my car to an emotionally charged song or two because of it.
(Not to mention the hormonal changes brought on by weaning.)
Older baby perks
People adoringly reminisce about the newborn days, and while I agree there are some great memories from that stage, I’m appreciating a variety of features of older infancy.
Like when I hold my daughter on my hip and she places her arm casually on the back of my shoulder like it’s the most natural position in the world. I suppose it is– a mother carrying her child. It still excites me.
Or the way she lights up when hearing a song.
The way she peers intently from her position on my lap at the story book spread out in front of us and sometimes even sits through a whole reading.
And when she kicks her little bare feet against her high chair, toes splayed in anticipation when a spoonful of yummy food is aimed right at her.
Somehow, I’m loving these small and magnificent moments while also grasping at remembering her earlier days. I don’t want to forget.
Sadness and gratitude coexisting
It’s the wave of nostalgia that hits when packing up baby’s littlest clothing items.
Sadness that seems to sucker punch out of nowhere when shelving swaddles and bottles and other things outgrown.
For now, I’m telling myself that these feelings can exist right beside I’m excited for the new things my child is learning.
I love to watch her grow and develop.
And even looking to the future: I can’t wait for her to get to new stages.
I’m choosing to acknowledge the strange opposites of excitement and fear and joy and sadness all arriving, like unexpected houseguests, at the same time.
I’m choosing to embrace these paradoxes and complexities and enigmas. They call it being a mom.
