Written by Amy Spofford, Pre & Postnatal Coach
Amy Spofford is well-versed in pregnancy, birth, postpartum and mom-life. She is the founder of Eat What Feels Good, LLC, a platform promoting healthy preparation for and healing from birth so new moms can enjoy their little ones.
A big part of parenting seems to be waiting for the ‘firsts’ to happen. First smile, laugh, wave, jump, steps, and the list goes on. We record them, we write down the dates and we post about them on social media. It only makes sense that we want to commemorate these milestones – they grow up too fast, after all. Cherishing these moments help us soak in the magical parts of parenting – the things that make all the hard parts worth it. But what happens when ‘baby life’ comes to an end? When you’re on your way down the other side of that hill, you start to notice the lasts, and I’m here to tell you that it’s bittersweet.
Conflicting emotions
The last time you put your baby down in a crib because they’re ready for a toddler bed. Their last night with a pacifier. Their last bottle, breastfeeding session, contact nap. Some of these lasts feel like a punch to the gut while others have felt like a long time coming. That last diaper and last day paying for childcare feel like freedom and a chance to high-five your parenting partner and breathe a sigh of relief.
But then I start thinking about the last time they’ll let me hold their hand walking into school. They’ll need that comfort up until a point, and then without warning, they won’t. One day I will pick them up to carry them for the last time, and I won’t even know it. That’s the thing about lasts – they can be sneaky. We don’t always plan for them or see them coming, and we often don’t have the influence over them that we’d like. The last time they say “Mommy” in favor of “Mom” is largely out of our control.
Identity shifts
We build our identities around what we are experiencing at any given moment, and “parent-of-babies” to “parent-of-small-kids” to “parent-of-teens” to “empty-nesters” are a series of labels that require us to shapeshift fairly frequently. When you think about it, parenting requires almost constant adaptation and pivoting of self, and we likely don’t give ourselves enough credit for that.
This brings up many questions for which I do not have answers. At what point does the revolving door of change slow down? When they’ve moved out and we are “parents-of-adults?” When that time comes, can we settle into the idea that the biggest part of our role as parents is complete? Should that make us feel better, like we’ve done what we came to do? What is the last identity we will hold, and how do we find ourselves when the last of our parenting lasts is behind us?
Moving on
For better or worse, we cannot stop time. The best thing we can do is soak in the moments when we can and document the lasts when it feels like it could help us process the changes that are happening. We all know it’s not about missing the actual onesies after we pack the last one away for good. It’s about watching our babies grow up before our eyes and wondering where the time is going. It’s remembering stocking their drawers for the first time with crisp and clean clothes and then fast-forwarding to unloading those same clothes into diaper boxes for donations – sometimes three kids later – stained and loved. It’s knowing we won’t be checking a baby monitor anymore, reminding us that we no longer have a baby to check on. Even some of their firsts are tainted with a hint of grief because they mark the end of something else. Their first haircut may mean the last of their curls, and the first time they pronounce something correctly means you’ll never hear it the adorable way again. There is grief in sending them off to school where we won’t be able to supervise interactions or protect them from every harm. It’s letting go, and it’s not for the weak.
Silver linings
Even with little bits of grief pulling at us as we experience their lasts, it is an enormous privilege to be able to watch our children grow up. I look forward to the day when I can have an adult conversation or a legal beer with my kids, and logically, I won’t miss the potty training and the complete absence of reason. But while I am still somewhat in the realm of their firsts, I am constantly anticipating their lasts. I am vigilant about these finish milestones because I don’t want to miss them. I want to hold onto the various stages of childhood because letting them go means my identity changes along with it. No matter how positive and freeing the next stage feels (like leaving diapers behind), it requires processing that overwhelms my already overloaded brain.
I look at new parents who are brimming with anticipation for all of the firsts they are about to witness, and I envy them. At the same time, cherishing the lasts brings along excitement for the next set of new beginnings. Parenting so far has been a cycle of anticipation, peak, and recovery and I am not sure that ever ends. What I am working on now is allowing the lasts to come and welcoming whatever feelings come with them. It feels truer than ever a time to say, “good grief.”
Read more from Amy Spofford
Amy Spofford, Pre & Postnatal Coach
Amy Spofford is a Pre & Postnatal Coach, a Nutritonal Therapy Practitioner and a mom of three little ones. Practicing as a Speech-Language-Pathologist in a nursing home rehab setting in a pandemic made pregnancy and early parentood beyond difficult. Amy used her holistic nutrition certification and research skills to dive deep into all things pregnancy, birth and postpartum, thinking there has to be a better way to navigate this season of life. This led to her becoming certified as a Pre & Postnatal coach. Her mission is to reduce the incidence of perinatal mood and anxiety disorders by providing education and support to pregnant women through their transition into postpartum.
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