Too Soon: A Mother’s Reflection on the Transition from Baby to Toddler

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It’s a first for me. Since I became a mom, tomorrow marks the first time I won’t have a baby in the house. My youngest son will turn two, and with my three boys spaced just 20 months apart, each birthday has been accompanied by the chaos of another infant. Six relentless years of pregnancies, nursing sessions, and newborn snuggles have passed in a blur—until now. It’s been a whole year since I last cradled a baby in my arms.

Lately, I catch myself glancing around, sensing that something is missing. I find myself wandering into the baby aisle at Target, hastily bypassing pacifiers and swaddle blankets. The sight of boppy pillows and breast pumps tugs at my heartstrings, leaving me with an unexpected lump in my throat. I have no use for these things anymore.

Earlier this week, I rummaged through my grandmother’s basement, retrieving Rubbermaid bins overflowing with baby clothes—now set to be passed down to my upcoming nephew. I can’t help but pause over a soft, cotton onesie from the hospital, feeling nostalgic. Was he ever really that small?

While preparing breakfast for his brothers, I glimpse him racing by—an adorable blur in fleece pajamas with tousled blond hair. I recognize those pajamas: blue and orange with soccer balls, always worn by the little one awaiting his new sibling’s arrival. In that moment, I instinctively reach out for an absent newborn, only to find my lively little boy.

He wraps his arms around my neck with a tight squeeze and takes a seat beside me, his chubby hand finding mine. His hair is still wispy, and when he sleeps, he resembles the grainy ultrasound image from before we even met. Yet, I’m caught off guard by how clearly he speaks now. His toddler thighs fill my lap, and he’s grown so capable—pouring himself a cup of water and brushing his teeth all on his own.

As I pass the full-length mirror, I’m surprised to see a little boy who’s too big to carry anymore. It feels almost awkward to gather him close. Those tiny yet monumental moments I missed during the early days with my other boys now seem amplified. There’s no new baby here to overshadow my toddler, and he remains my baby—at least for a little longer.

But soon, he’ll be two. Too soon, if you ask me. His entrance into the world was quick and unexpected, arriving four days before our scheduled C-section. Just like that, everything has rushed past, leaving us scrambling to keep up.

I find myself yearning for the comfort of the hospital’s postpartum ward—its soft colors and attentive nurses, the trays of comfort food, and of course, the tiny pink bundle swaddled so carefully in my arms. Without a newborn, I feel a bit lost.

As my boys grow, the gap between their needs and what I can offer widens. Their world is expanding beyond our home, and I can’t help but feel tethered yet anchored by them. Recently, while taking a rare afternoon for myself in Manhattan, I emerged from the subway only to find myself disoriented, swept along by the bustling crowd. Without the weight of my children, I felt like a plastic bag caught in the wind—adrift, a little lost.

Sometimes, I fear that when they’re grown, I might not recognize myself at all.

If you’re curious about the journey of parenthood and the emotional rollercoaster it brings, check out this insightful piece on the void that can accompany the conclusion of having children. Additionally, if you’re considering options like the at-home insemination kit, you can find more information here. For those interested in pregnancy resources, this site offers excellent information on IVF and related topics here.

In summary, as I navigate the bittersweet transition of my youngest son nearing two, I reflect on the changes that come with motherhood. It’s a journey filled with nostalgia, growth, and a hint of uncertainty about what lies ahead.

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