When I received the message that read, “I’m available next week if you’d like to go out for a bit. I can watch Lily,” I felt a wave of panic wash over me. I had known this day would come, but I wasn’t prepared. The thought of leaving my baby behind was overwhelming, and admitting my true feelings would require a boldness I wasn’t sure I possessed.
Lily is my third and final child. The decision to have her was a significant one, especially since my husband and I are both aging, and we already have two active boys aged 5 and 7. After much discussion, we decided to embrace the joy of infancy one more time. I’ve never looked back. My pregnancy was filled with happiness, even in those last uncomfortable weeks leading up to her arrival.
The week before Lily was born, New Jersey experienced an unexpected warm spell. Each day, I took walks around the neighborhood, hoping to spur on labor naturally. Deep down, I realized my attempts were half-hearted. I longed to feel those early contractions, but instead, I felt a tug at my heart. The reality that I would soon have to share my baby with the outside world was setting in.
With my first two pregnancies, I didn’t think twice about sharing them with others. I always say that my boys are gifts to the world; they radiate joy and kindness wherever they go. When they were babies, I’d take them shopping, and they would smile at strangers, who would inevitably smile back. I felt immense pride knowing they were spreading happiness.
But Lily is different. She feels like a gift I’m keeping for myself, and I’m struggling to convey that to others. It’s easier said than done.
In my late 20s, a wise friend told me that turning 30 brings a sense of freedom—no longer caring about others’ opinions. I eagerly anticipated that milestone, but when 30 came, I still found it difficult to express my needs. Now, as I approach 40, I feel like I’m finally gaining that confidence. This baby is a test for me.
I’ve come to realize that the baby stage is fleeting. When Lily was just 8 days old and her umbilical cord fell off, I found myself in tears, realizing she was growing up. During those quiet, late-night feeds, I breathe in her sweet scent, cherishing those moments that are solely ours. When she wraps her tiny fingers around my thumb, it feels as if she’s trying to hold on to the last nine months we spent together. As she pushes her legs against my soft belly, my heart swells with love. I wish I could freeze this time forever. Am I being unreasonable?
With my older boys, I was overwhelmed by motherhood and the demands that came with it. The idea of sleepless nights seemed unbearable, and I would have welcomed any offer for a break. But this time, it’s different, and I want to express that.
Ultimately, I bought myself a little time and told my friend I would join her next week, hoping that a few days would change my feelings. Yet, I’m not so sure it will.
Perhaps when I blow out 40 candles in a few short years, I’ll finally possess the boldness to let others hold my baby.
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In summary, the baby stage is a precious time filled with unique challenges and joys. It’s a fleeting moment that many mothers, like myself, wish could last a little longer.