As I write this, my baby will only be a baby for six more days.
I’ve simultaneously dreamed of this transition and dreaded it.
I’ve dreamed about this one year milestone because I have learned I’m not good at the baby stage.
This confession is usually too taboo for a mother to admit out loud. Which I think is dumb, by the way. Admitting it is just honest, and I’m sure I’m not alone in knowing the baby stage is not where I shine.
I’m good at loving, caring for, and gazing at my baby. But I have learned that my life becomes tremendously difficult to manage when I have an infant.
In order to be good enough at mothering an infant, I’m less good at everything else.
I’m not the wife, friend, co-worker, volunteer, and mother to our other child that I want to be.
I’m also quite negligent in caring for myself.
When I have an infant, I am uncontrollably anxious.
Unintentionally, I drop hobbies.
And working motherhood can be so overwhelming that I am irritable far more than I’d like.
I dream of investing energy back into my relationships and myself. I know this dream can come true because soon, very gradually, almost imperceptibly, I will have more time to make those investments.
It isn’t all just about having more time for everyone and everything else, though. I also dream of knowing my baby differently than I do now. I’m excited to see the kind of child she becomes.
I have loved getting to know our older child as he continues to be more expressive. There is nothing quite like seeing him experience different things and find what brings him joy. And as he matures, we find more common interests. I can’t wait to get to know our daughter like that, too.
So yes, I’ve dreamed of the reprieve from mothering an infant. But as the transition nears, I’m dreading it, too.
Soon our baby will technically be a toddler. And while I’m excited to move past this stage and onward, I’m sad about what will quickly fade into the past.
The day she will no longer fall asleep cradled in my lap will come. Soon, she will no longer babble at me in the way only I can interpret.
When she takes her first steps, I will know the cute crawling days are ending. And before long, she will no longer be wearing adorable little onesies.
I’m excited for all the new firsts ahead, but each first brings an end to something else.
That thought makes me sad sometimes.
For those of you who have read my other pieces, you’ve read how I’m often torn about motherhood, and the end of the baby stage is no different. As our daughter’s baby stage comes to an end, I’m half dreaming of the day while the other half of me is dreading it.
And that’s perfectly okay to admit out loud.
