I’m Experiencing Baby Fever—But Not Quite Like You Think

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I have this overwhelming desire for a baby. Not a third child, mind you, and definitely not yours (nice try, though). What I really crave is my baby back. It doesn’t matter whether it’s a boy or a girl—perhaps even both!—just not at the same time.

Over the last few months, I’ve been caught in this strange midlife “craving” where I absolutely adore babies. I mean, LOVE them. And as fate would have it—because life can be so ironic—my Facebook and Instagram feeds are bursting with adorable little ones who are sleeping, just starting to walk, freshly born, or celebrating their first birthdays. Those chubby thighs, tiny fingers, and wispy hair are just too much. The blue-eyed cuties especially tug at my heartstrings since both of my kids have their own lovely shades of blue, and it’s just as cute now that they’re teens.

These babies in my social media feeds? They’re blank canvases, asking nothing more than to be held, fed, and loved without conditions. What could be more uplifting than a brand-new baby? They symbolize a fresh start, reminding us that life continues and encouraging us to love ourselves just a bit more. Babies don’t hold grudges, roll their eyes, or leave their toys lying around. Sure, they require a lot of care, but the love and joy they give back are irreplaceable. That pure, unconditional love is something you can only get from a little one who doesn’t have to worry about curfews or chores.

I find myself yearning to revisit those days, grasping desperately for memories of my life with babies, trying to relive how it felt to cuddle a sleepy infant right against my neck in the quiet early mornings when the rest of the house was still asleep. I want to remember the anxiety of bathing that delicate first baby, terrified they might slip from my hands. I want to relive the thrill of hearing “It’s a boy!” and “It’s a girl!” feeling that I already knew them, having sensed their presence even before those lines appeared on the pregnancy tests. I long to recall the magic of watching them dance, sing, and play pretend without a hint of self-doubt. I want to remember rocking in the kitchen with my little girl on my hip and feeling her tiny heartbeat through my hand, soothing tears, protecting, and just being present.

But the truth is, I can’t quite remember all of it.

“You’re making memories!” people used to say during those endless grocery trips or while pushing swings at the park. I probably say that to my younger friends who are just starting their families now. Deep down, they know, too, that while their days may feel long and monotonous, they’ll pass quicker than they can imagine.

But memories! “You will have all the memories!” they cheer. However, those memories aren’t always neatly defined or easy to recall. Some are jagged, some painful, and many don’t align with how your kids remember them (which can be a shock). Yet, there are moments that shine brightly, so vivid and clear that you can relive them whenever you wish. Just rewind.

Other memories, though? The daily routine, the bath times, and bedtimes, the countless readings of “Hop on Pop” and “Brown Bear, Brown Bear,” and the endless boxes of mac and cheese I crafted while scavenging for scraps. The “firsts” and “lasts” for each child, from those tentative first steps to losing a first tooth to starting high school—everything blurs together like a fog I can’t yet see through. I sift through boxes of printed photos (yes, my little ones were born before the digital era) that span an entire childhood. I can see it all—the camping trips, amusement parks, birthdays, sleepovers, friends, family, beloved pets, and favorite toys. Back then, I didn’t maintain a blog or journal. We captured memories on video and in photographs, and while I have plenty stored in boxes, the haze of those 21 years is unsettling. I honestly thought I would remember more vividly. Sometimes, I worry I’m losing my memories, one faded mental snapshot at a time.

But just give me that baby. My baby, either one of them. If only I could experience a day with my little girl on my hip or hear my baby boy laughing so hard he loses his breath. I promise I would cherish every moment—I really would. If only I could hit rewind one more time.

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In summary, baby fever can strike at any age, making us nostalgic for the sweet moments of early parenthood. While memories fade, the desire to relive those precious experiences remains strong.