Unsolicited Advice.. As Usual

There is a plethora of advice out there for parents.  Whether it’s your first baby or fourth, there is always someone, somewhere, that has a little piece of wisdom they would like to bestow upon expecting parents. 

Please allow me to throw my hat into the game. 

First, some background.

After cleaning up our baby stuff, and getting it ready to give to other new parents (sidebar.. um I think almost ALL of my good friends are either expecting, or about to be..) I found myself a total hot mess, sobbing in the kitchen to my husband that “I’m not ready for this to be over, it’s going too fast”.  He hugged me and looked at me incredulously since we still have a baby in the house.  But, as I’m sure other moms can attest to, despite his status as still being a ‘baby’, he’s not a ‘baby’ baby anymore. 

What I was trying to convey through hiccupped sobs, and a little snot too, was that in making the decision to be ‘done’ having kids, I was having a hard time with the idea that this was essentially the end of an era. 

No more pregnancy tests, no more feeling the baby move for the first time, no more ultrasounds that set your heart on fire when you see your little space peanut wave at you or flail around, no more literally having you heart set on fire from heartburn in the third trimester, and finally, no more moments of seeing that little person you grew inside of you for the very first time. 

It hit me hard to come to the realization that this part of my life was coming to a close.  And I think the fact that we started early, and therefore are done early, while my friends are still having their firsts, made it seem like it sped by way too fast.

Now, whether I would like to or not, there is no going back on us being a 3 kid kinda family.  And you know, I don’t want to tempt fate.  I’ve had three healthy, hearty babies that have grown into fantastic, ridiculously good looking kids (and currently one cuter than cute baby).  But, there is something inside of me that still feels sad that it’s over.

In coping with these feelings I went back and thought of the moments with each of my newborns that I will remember forever.  Strangely enough, all three were the same moments.. so here’s where I’ll take the liberty of expunging advice.

There’s a moment.

After the adrenaline filled moments after birth, when all the family has been called, mass texts have been sent out, when the nurses have left you, the baby, and dad alone in your room for the first time.  It’s an endorphin rich serenity that so far in my 30 years, I have felt nothing akin to.

 It’s the moment when quiet comes, and you sit back and look at the little pink hand moving in their sleep, or daddy dozing off holding the baby in the recliner, when nothing outside the room and this moment mean anything. 

Where the world could come crashing down around you and you wouldn’t notice because you are drawing the outline of that little mouth to remember forever in your mind, where your husband looks at you, and back at the baby with the kind of tenderness and adoration you thought was reserved for made for TV movies.  It’s a feeling that for the rest of your life, nothing will matter, or be more important than who you just met. 

It’s absolutely intoxicating, and a vacuum in time that will never be duplicated. 

Soon this moment of calm will shift, and you will be awoken from the hypnotic bliss from that surge of pure, unadulterated love.  Soon you will go back to reality where diapers need to be changed, papers need to be signed, grandparents will show up, nurses will be doing rounds, life will march forward. 

So, my advice… please, please take the time to relish this moment.  Sit still, and really take in this moment of absolute perfection. 

Because before you know it, you’ll be a puddle in the middle of your kitchen one night, sobbing to your husband about how life needs to slow the f down.