It has been eight weeks since my partner and I welcomed our newest addition to the family. As our fourth child, this timeframe has given us the opportunity to rise above the haze of newborn life and adjust to our new routine. However, it has also allowed for some reflection on the significance of this final chapter for our family, as she is indeed our last child.
Interestingly, she was somewhat of a surprise. When I envisioned our family, I always pictured having three children. I had mentally prepared for three college tuitions, contemplated how we would manage three children’s extracurricular activities, and even chose our home partly because it featured a shared room for two siblings of the same gender. We were set on three—until a fourth arrived.
While I cherish our new little one, I can’t deny that her arrival was unexpected. As soon as we learned about her, my partner took steps to ensure that we would not face any further surprises. This decision meant that we entered this new phase of parenting fully aware that this would be our last child. Yet, I find myself grappling with the reality of her being the final addition.
She is the last baby whose kicks I will feel while pregnant. The last one to fill the night air with her sweet scent as I nurse her in the dark. The last who will be content to be carried in my arms. We will witness her journey from a tiny, dependent infant to a thriving individual.
Our eldest child is still young, meaning there are many first experiences ahead for us. We have yet to navigate high school, first dates, and all that comes with them—first kisses and heartbreaks are still on the horizon. Concepts like college, marriage, and grandchildren feel distant and not yet tangible. However, this also signifies an end to many firsts.
This is the last first smile, the last first words, and the last first steps. I always believed that when we reached this point, I would feel a sense of completion. In reality, I can easily envision one or two more joyful faces joining our family. If circumstances allowed—logistically, financially, and health-wise—I would welcome the chance to continue expanding our family indefinitely. Unfortunately, that is not the case, and this is where we must draw the line.
With this baby, we will retire the crib and high chair. Bottles, sippy cups, and play mats will be put away for good. She will be the last to ride in a stroller, the last to use a car seat, and the last to embark on her educational journey.
This little one is leading us toward the next phase of our lives. Our household dynamics will shift dramatically as she grows up. There will come a time when diapers will be a thing of the past. A time when each family member can independently put on their own shoes and get into the car. Eventually, we will reach a point where all the children are in school, and one day, they will no longer need us quite as much.
While my intellect recognizes that this decision is the best for our family, my emotions have yet to fully accept it. Thus, I find myself in tears, mourning this transition. Although we are just at the beginning of her life, we are simultaneously closing the door on an era. Her firsts signify our lasts, and the conclusion of something so beautiful is undeniably bittersweet.
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In summary, the arrival of my last child has brought about unexpected feelings of sadness and nostalgia. While I recognize the importance of this decision for our family, I grapple with the finality of it all. This experience emphasizes the bittersweet nature of parenting—celebrating new beginnings while mourning the ends of precious phases.