During a routine checkup, I observed a mother, Emily, cradling her 4-day-old son, Ethan, close to her chest. “Please, let him not be my last baby,” she implored her partner. While Ethan may indeed be her final biological child, the emotional weight of this realization, especially for a parent who practices attachment styles and breastfeeding, can be profound.
Ethan, now 2 ½ years old, has two siblings—Oliver, aged 4, and Max, aged 6. As a newborn, the demands of his older brothers quickly distinguished him as “the Baby.” This is a common phenomenon in parenting: “The Baby needs a diaper change,” or “The Baby is awake.” I’ve witnessed it with many families in my practice. Initially, I wondered if my patients would ever refer to their children by names other than “Baby Oliver” or “Baby Max.” But as their older siblings began to walk, the “Baby” label naturally faded away.
However, with Ethan, the name has stuck. Perhaps it’s because he is the youngest or due to the absence of another sibling when he was just 15 months old. Emily and her partner continue to refer to him as “Baby,” likely to help differentiate him amongst their busy household. Additionally, Ethan remains nursed in public, a practice that is not uncommon, as Emily previously nursed Max until he was 4. It’s a normalization of an extended nursing relationship, yet it elicits curiosity from outsiders.
When Ethan turned 2, he began to assert himself verbally. Instead of sharing his name, he adamantly declared, “No! Me Baby!” When I asked him about it, he confidently confirmed, “Me Baby.”
As a healthcare professional, I believe that individuals have the right to define their own identities. This conveys agency and a sense of self. Ethan’s desire to be known as the smallest or the “Baby” is part of his journey. He will eventually grow out of it, but for now, it’s a title he embraces.
Emily often finds herself using this name, acknowledging that it brings her a sense of joy—her youngest still identifies as her baby. Her husband, however, tries to persuade Ethan otherwise. “You’re so big! You can walk and talk!” he insists. “Baby walk and talk,” Ethan replies. “No, me not big! Me tiny!” His emotional response to being labeled “big” is telling. Perhaps it is a means of establishing his uniqueness in a household of older siblings, or maybe it’s simply a desire to remain in a more innocent stage of childhood.
I’ve checked in with Ethan multiple times during consultations, asking if he prefers “Ethan” or “Baby.” He always responds without hesitation, “Baby.” Just recently, I overheard him in the backseat, exclaiming, “Tiny, tiny, tiny. Baby tiny.” This was despite his substantial weight of 27 pounds at his last pediatric appointment.
When introduced to others, he proudly proclaims, “Me Baby,” interrupting his mother’s introductions of his siblings.
Critics might argue that by indulging in this identity, Emily is preserving Ethan in a state of perpetual infancy. Yes, he is still nursed and co-sleeps, but these practices alone do not hinder his development. He actively engages in conversations, asserting, “Baby can talk,” and showcases his growing vocabulary daily. Just the other day, he helped his mother at the store, demonstrating that he is far from stunted by his name or the affectionate label of “Baby.”
Ultimately, “Baby” is a title he has chosen for himself. One day, that preference will undoubtedly shift, but for now, it’s a role he is comfortable with. With time, patience, and understanding, he will embrace new identities. For additional insights on parenting and home insemination, you can refer to this resource. If you’re interested in fertility solutions, check out this resource too.
In conclusion, nurturing a child’s preferred identity can be an enriching experience for both parent and child, fostering a sense of security and self-expression that will evolve naturally over time.