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by Sarah Thompson
Updated: May 1, 2016
Originally Published: May 1, 2016
When my youngest was just four days old, I held him close against my skin and pleaded with my partner, “Please don’t let him be the last baby!” While he will be the last one born from me, that brings with it a bittersweet sense of loss—a profound sadness for me as an attachment parent who cherishes every moment of breastfeeding.
Now at 2 ½ years old, my son, whom we affectionately call Sunny, has two older brothers aged 4 and 6. When he was little, the demands of his energetic siblings quickly set him apart, and he earned the title of “the Baby.” It’s something every parent does to some degree: “The Baby needs a diaper change,” or “The Baby had a great nap today.” We did it with our older boys, too. I worried that my sons would always be known as Baby Blaise and Baby August, but once they hit about a year old and started walking, the title faded naturally as people began to see them as big kids.
But with Sunny, that title stuck. Perhaps it’s because he’s the youngest, or maybe because I didn’t have another baby shortly after he turned 15 months old. Or possibly, it’s because I kept referring to him as the Baby, and so did my partner. There were so many little ones to keep track of, and labeling them helped. Plus, with him continuing to nurse in public—just like I did with his older brother until age 4—a 2 ½-year-old still nursing didn’t raise any eyebrows.
Around his second birthday, Sunny started expressing himself more verbally. I anticipated him saying his name, but instead, he stomped his little foot and declared, “No! Me Baby!”
“You’re Baby?” I asked.
“Me Baby,” he confirmed with insistence.
I believe everyone should have the right to define what others call them. It’s a vital aspect of forming one’s identity, giving agency to the individual. Sunny wanted to identify as the smallest, the Baby. Eventually, he’ll outgrow this phase, but for now, it’s nearly impossible to stop using that term of endearment with him.
So, Baby it was. I used his chosen name about half the time. Some might say I encouraged it, and perhaps I did, but he firmly selected Baby, and that’s what he would be called. A part of me felt a rush of joy—my baby is still here. Although my little one may not want to be carried on my back anymore, he still identifies as Baby.
My partner tries to persuade him otherwise. “But you’re so big!” he argues. “You can do lots of big kid things like walk and talk!”
“Baby walk and talk,” Sunny replies.
“But you’re big!”
“No, me not big! Me tiny!” he insists, bursting into tears. He gets very upset when we suggest he’s big. Maybe he wants to differentiate himself from his older brothers, or perhaps he simply enjoys being little.
I think it’s more of the latter. Occasionally, I ask him, “Do you want me to call you Sunny or Baby?”
“Baby,” he responds without a second thought. I even overheard him in the backseat, chanting, “Tiny, tiny, tiny. Baby tiny,” even though he weighed in at a solid 27 pounds during his last check-up.
When introducing himself to others, he’ll interject, “Me Baby,” when I say, “This is Blaise, this is August, and this…”
Okay, then.
Some might argue that in my desire for another child, I’m keeping my youngest in a bubble, preserving him as the perfect Baby. Yes, I still nurse him, and he sleeps in our bed, but I no longer wear nursing-friendly clothing. He can’t access my breasts the way he could before, and that’s not how I keep him a baby. If I wanted to stop his growth, I’d still be wearing nursing bras and tank tops. As for co-sleeping, we’re working on transitioning him out—he’s the only one who insists on staying in our bed.
Others, including my partner, argue that calling him by his chosen name is holding him back, suggesting a desire to remain small and dependent. He may ask for “milkies” more than I grant permission, but he’s also learned to walk and talk. He frequently asserts, “Baby can talk,” and his vocabulary expands daily. He even helped me at the store today, placing items on the conveyor belt. He’s not hindered by his name.
Ultimately, “Baby” is just a label. It’s the name my youngest prefers right now. Eventually, he’ll choose another, but for now, it’s a role he’s comfortable with. He’ll move on from this stage with time, patience, and understanding.
This article was originally published on May 1, 2016.
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Summary:
In this heartfelt reflection, Sarah Thompson explores her youngest son’s identity as “Baby” amidst the dynamic of having two older brothers. Despite concerns from her partner and others about the implications of this title, she embraces her son’s choice, celebrating the joy of still having a baby in her life. As he grows, she understands that this stage will pass, but for now, she cherishes the unique bond they share.