When my youngest son, Leo, was just four days old, I held him close, feeling a mixture of love and longing. “Please, let him not be the last baby!” I pleaded with my partner. While Leo is indeed the last child I’ll carry, this reality brings with it a bittersweet sense of loss, especially for someone like me who cherishes attachment parenting and breastfeeding.
Now at 2 ½ years old, Leo has two older brothers: Max, who is 4, and Sam, who is 6. In his infancy, the demands of his older siblings quickly distinguished him as “the Baby.” Every parent has their own version of this: “The Baby needs changing,” “The Baby isn’t napping,” or “Look at the Baby’s smile!” We referred to Max and Sam in the same way. I feared that my boys would forever be labeled as Baby Max and Baby Sam. However, as they reached about a year old and began to walk, they soon shed that baby title seamlessly.
For Leo, however, it’s been different. Perhaps it’s because he has two older brothers, or because I didn’t conceive another sibling when he was just 15 months old. Maybe it’s simply that I continued to call him “the Baby,” and my partner joined in. With so many kids around, we needed a way to differentiate them. It’s also likely that, combined with all of this, Leo continued to nurse in public. Having nursed his older brother until the age of 4, seeing a 2 ½-year-old nursing didn’t raise any eyebrows. But still.
As Leo approached 2 years old, he began to express himself verbally. I anticipated hearing his name, but instead, he stamped his tiny foot and declared, “No! Me Baby!”
“Are you Baby?” I questioned.
“Me Baby,” he confirmed with conviction.
I believe everyone should have the power to define how they are addressed; it’s integral to their identity. Leo wanted to embrace being the smallest, the youngest—the Baby. Eventually, he would outgrow it, but for now, it was nearly impossible to stop using “Baby” as an endearment.
And so, Baby it was. I found myself using this name about half the time. Some may argue that I encouraged this choice, but ultimately, it was his decision. Yes, a part of me delighted in having a baby still by my side. While Leo may not want to be carried on my back, he still identifies as Baby.
My partner, however, often tries to convince him otherwise. “But you’re so big!” he insists. “You can do so many grown-up things like walk and talk!”
“Baby walk and talk,” Leo counters.
“But you’re big!”
“No, me not big! Me tiny!” Leo insists, often bursting into tears at the suggestion he is anything but small. This could be his way of distinguishing himself from his older brothers, or maybe he just prefers being little.
I check in with him occasionally, asking, “Do you want me to call you Leo or Baby?”
“Baby,” he replies without a moment’s hesitation. I’ve even caught him happily chanting in the backseat: “Tiny, tiny, tiny. Baby tiny,” despite weighing a hefty 27 pounds at his latest check-up.
When meeting new people, he introduces himself as well. I’ll say, “This is Max, this is Sam, and this…”
“Me Baby,” he interjects. Alright then.
Some might say that in my yearning for another child, I am preserving Leo as the eternal Baby. True, I still breastfeed him and he sleeps in our bed. However, I no longer wear nursing clothes; he can’t access my breasts as easily anymore, which is not a method to keep him a baby. If that were my intention, I would still be wearing nursing bras and tanks. And about our bed-sharing—well, we’re gradually working on that. The only one who insists on having Baby in bed is, unsurprisingly, Baby himself.
Others, including my partner, argue that calling him by the name he chose might hinder his growth, suggesting that it reflects a desire to remain small and dependent. Leo does request “milkies” often, but he’s the one who learned to walk and talk. When we debate whether babies can speak, he proudly declares, “Baby can talk.” And indeed, he is talking more each day, helping me at the store by putting items on the conveyor belt. He is not hindered by his name.
Ultimately, “Baby” is simply a title—one that my third son prefers. Someday, he might choose a different one, and we’ll likely continue to affectionately call him “Baby” now and then. For the time being, it’s the name he identifies with, and he is comfortable in that role. With time and patience, he will naturally transition out of it.
If you find yourself navigating similar discussions about identity, consider exploring our other blog post here for more insights. And for parents interested in home insemination, reputable retailers like Make a Mom offer at-home insemination syringe kits to assist along the journey. Additionally, for more comprehensive information about the process, check out this resource on artificial insemination.
In summary, embracing the title of “Baby” is a journey worth taking. It reflects not just a stage in development but a cherished identity that may evolve over time. Every child deserves the freedom to define themselves, and as parents, we can support them through every chapter of their growth.
Leave a Reply