An Ode To Your Last Baby

Four days from now, in somewhat impossible fashion, the little peanut in the above picture will be one. I’ll go ahead and use the cliché of “not knowing where the time goes,” because I honestly don’t.

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And with the clock ticking,  I’ve spent the last few weeks reflecting on every miraculous moment that has occurred over the past year with my second child, Madeleine; the abundance of cuddles, the frustrations, and the sense of completion she brings to our family. I also flash back to “Day 1,” when I laid eyes upon my brand-new baby for the first time… when the idea of a first birthday was so far from reality.

Some of you might also be watching your child approach his/her first birthday. But for me, and maybe for you too, my second baby is also my last baby.

Truth be told, I’ve been prepared for this day for a while. I’m a big proponent of family planning and David and I knew “2” was our magic baby-making number. I’ll save our thought process on that for later, but we considered everything from general expenses to restaurant reservations to college savings to transportation to having even numbers on rollercoaster rides, (haha, yep!)

But most of all, when considering the possibility of growing beyond a family of four, I remember asking myself if I wanted more children because I actually wanted a large family and all of the sacrifices that requires—or if I really just wanted another tiny baby to snuggle. Turns out, it was the latter. And as we all know too well… those babies grow up.

All of this is to say that when we found out we were pregnant with Maddie, we knew it would be the last.

While I genuinely look forward to celebrating a first birthday—I realize (somewhat painfully) that it also symbolizes a “last” in so many ways… because your last baby is more than just your youngest child.

Every new milestone they hit also signifies a “last” for you, mama. Their birth? The last time you’ll ever experience growing a little body, inside your own. Those first steps? The last time you see your little one chase after you on all fours. There will be a last time your child asks you to carry her, to read to her, to kiss her goodnight, and you won’t even know the “last time” happened… until it doesn’t again.

As such, I’ve really focused on soaking up every last ounce of pregnancy (and eventually babyhood) that I could, because I knew there wouldn’t be another.

So for 9 months, plus the 361 days I’ve been graced by you, Madeleine Jane, I hope you know how I tried to be so mindful of your “firsts,” and MY “lasts.” You’ve given me so many extraordinary gifts—many that I can’t put into words—but for the ones that I can, I wanted to share how you’ve been the most special “last” I could ever ask for.

• You gave me awareness.

  You strengthened my appreciation of time and the moment we’re in. I became so cognizant of taking mental snapshots—the weight of you laying on my chest, the way your hands move as you nurse, the sounds of you sleeping. There is something so magical about being able to time-travel back to those moments in time. I cannot thank you enough for reminding me to be truly present in your everyday miracles.

• You gave me perspective.

  With your big sister as a point of reference, I had context to just how quickly time goes by. Save for a few episodes of no sleeping and your Shamu/splash-zone-worthy reflux, I never wished away your littleness. I didn’t worry about your milestones and made a point to appreciate you exactly how you were at every stage, because I know how quickly you’ll grow up.

• You gave me confidence.

  For all of the uncertainty, vulnerability, and fear that comes with being a first-time mother, it all but disappears the second time around. Birth plan? Sure, why not, let’s forgo the epidural. Nursing problems? Nothing a little 2-Day Prime order of nipple cream can’t solve. No doubt adding another member to our family was a tough adjustment, but you solidified the raw, maternal poise I lacked the first time around, and you’re half the reason I am the mother I am today.

• You gifted me with a physical bond. 

  Whether it’s because you are so naturally cuddly, or because I had to constantly babywear you while chasing after a two-year old, there’s no denying the effortless affection you’ve given me. Your longing to be close only served as a reminder of how much you needed me. I held, rocked, and laid beside you more times than my first-time-mom rulebook would have ever allowed, and I don’t regret a second of it.

• You gave me sorrow.

  I’d be remiss to say there isn’t a smidge of sadness. Just this weekend, a friend announced her pregnancy, and hidden in my joy for her is the silent aching that it won’t be me who’s expecting, again… that the excitement is no longer for you and I. So be patient with me as I try to preserve your smallness. I simply can’t help it. You’ll always be my baby and watching you get older will always hurt a little more than I know it should.

• You gave me joy.

  For all of the tears, I have hundreds of videos, thousands of pictures, and countless memories of pure happiness. Before I had you, I had no idea I could love another baby as much as I love your sister. But then I held you. And fell in love with you. And tumbled head over heels when I saw the way you and Lilly began to adore one another. Everything about you, from your belly laughs to your perfect dimples to your curious personality sends my heart soaring.

• You made our family whole.

  Last of all my precious Maddie, you’ve given me the feeling of completion. Where Lilly started our family, you finished it. As hard as some of these things have been to write, there is no greater feeling than to envision our future and see the four of us in it—family movie nights, college football games, Sunday breakfasts, beach vacations, holidays… I don’t have to daydream about what our family will look like one day, because here we are.

With your last, there are all of these overwhelming senses of “finality.” But there’s also an incredibly happy sense of seeing your lives unfold together.

What are some special things your youngest brings to your family?

PHOTO CRED: Brittany Blake, at www.brittanyblakephotography.com.