My youngest recently celebrated her first birthday, and while we’re having a blast marking her achievements, I can’t help but feel a tinge of sadness as I say goodbye to the baby phase. Sure, the relief of no longer being pregnant is palpable, but the longing for those sweet infant days has already begun setting in.
Let’s be honest—I won’t miss the midnight cries that shatter my sleep or the ever-growing mountain of diapers that seem to multiply by the minute. I won’t miss lugging around an arsenal of diaper bags, car seats, and all the other baby gear that feels like I’m preparing for an expedition. And I definitely won’t miss the constant worry over every little sniffle or potential choking hazard lurking in my home.
But let’s get real; there are many things I will miss.
I will miss that distinct two-syllable wail that only a newborn can muster. I will miss the delightful scent of a freshly bathed baby head. I will miss the indescribable softness of those chubby cheeks nestled against my neck, cradled in my arms, or gently resting on my chest. I will miss those tiny fingers that wrapped around mine with a grip so fierce. I will miss the little pats from her hands on my back, saying, “I love you, Mommy,” as I whispered back, “I love you, Baby.”
I will miss the way her arms would reach up to me, silently asking for my embrace. I will miss the joy in her eyes when I entered her line of sight; I was her whole world—her protector, her sunshine. I’ll even miss the way she would turn her head, searching for me after just a short separation.
I will miss the adorable panting and rooting of a hungry baby who could wait an extra five minutes for her milk. I will miss those spontaneous giggles that bubbled up without warning, and I’ll miss the delightful babbling ending in “a,” as she tried to describe her fascinating world. I’ll miss the wobbly steps of her learning to walk, so determined to conquer that challenge.
There’s a beautiful trust that envelops me when she relaxes in my arms, drifting off to sleep, with me being the last thing she sees as her heavy eyelids flutter one last time before she succumbs to slumber. I will miss cradling her impossibly small body, watching her breathe in sync with my heart. I will miss studying her peaceful face and whispering my love into her ear as she dreams.
While I won’t miss changing diapers only to have to change them again five minutes later, or sleepily navigating a minefield of toys in the dark, I will miss holding her close. I’ll miss it dearly until the day I have grandbabies, and then everything will feel right again.
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In summary, as I navigate the bittersweet transition from baby to toddler, I find solace in the memories of those precious early days. Each milestone is a celebration, but my heart feels the void of what’s been left behind.