After the birth of my third child, my doctor advised that it might be wise not to have more children. All three of my pregnancies and labors had been difficult for different reasons. I remember being devastated at the suggestion.
I had always envisioned myself having at least four kids. Coming from a small family, I knew my kids wouldn’t have an extended family to grow up with, so I wanted to be able to give them lots of siblings who would be around through thick and thin for life. I imagined huge family get-togethers during the holidays, with girlfriends, boyfriends, husbands, wives, and all their children gathered at my house, playing games, eating meals, going for walks, and watching movies.
I look at my youngest, now 6, slightly grieved I’ll never have a baby again. No more endless cuddles on my shoulder, new baby head smells, or tiny fingers gripping my own. No more chubby feet or tiny clothes. When mine were babies, I was their world — something I resented at the time — but now terribly miss.
Yet, as much as I’ll miss that baby season, I’m embracing life with my older children, ages 11, 9, and 6.
Alone time exists again
Even though part of me loved being needed to literally keep a baby or toddler alive, it felt claustrophobic more often than not. I remember daydreaming about having a full day away from my breastfeeding baby and of exercising or being out with a friend without my eye on the time.
I’m learning what I like again — hiking, wild swimming, cappuccinos at cute coffee shops, and seeing friends uninterrupted.
When I drop them off at the school gates at 8:30, I know I can work for the next six hours without distraction.
I can get things done around the house
All house chores used to be rushed. Could I squeeze in mopping, cooking, laundry, dishes, or life admin during a nap or after the kids went to sleep for the night?
If they were awake, I would get things done around the house with the baby in a baby wrap, putting a variety of toys around my toddler, who was fenced in with a baby gate.
Now, I send them outside to play on the trampoline, suggest toys in their room, or just stick the TV on for them while I carry on with whatever needs doing. They can keep themselves busy independently while I get on with what needs to be done in the house.
Getting out of the house is a million times easier
Diapers. Wipes. Chew toys. Bottles. Pacifiers. Medicine. Snacks. Bib. Blanket. Spare Clothes.
The list of things I needed to stuff in a bag before going out of the house with babies and toddlers was endless.
I’d also mentally list my plan if something went wrong when we were out. What if they had an explosive poo? What if they threw a tantrum in the middle of the grocery store? What if they needed a nap? What if we got stuck in traffic?
And planning for vacation was like a part-time job. We rarely went far because it all was just far too stressful.
These days, I just shout that it’s time to go, and magically, everyone gathers at the door. Even though I have to remind them to use the bathroom, put on shoes, brush their teeth, and perhaps fix their inside-out shirts, getting out is so much easier now.
We get to make a lot of memories together
I had always hesitated to spend money on activities when the kids were little. Outings were typically quite stressful, and they wouldn’t remember what we had gone through such an effort to do anyway.
We unintentionally saved a lot of money by choosing to do home-based things when the kids were little, but now, we use a larger portion of our budget on days out, hobbies, and treat activities.
In the last year, we’ve introduced all of them to musical theatre, mountain walking, rock climbing, big cities, and travel.
I routinely take each of the kids out for a one-on-one special time — a hot drink and a cake — hopeful that one day, they’ll recall all the fun they had with their mom.
Conversation is engaging
Last week, my 9-year-old wanted to talk about racism in our community. My 11-year-old loves chatting about science and business. My 6-year-old recently asked me about the religious views of people from different faiths.
They are engaged in a way they were developmentally not able to be when they were younger.
Another huge plus of them growing up is they make me roll in laughter. They each have their own witty sense of humor, full of sarcasm and intelligence. I love it.
Someone once told me that kids shouldn’t be best friends with their parents — that it blurs the boundary lines. I wholeheartedly disagree.
As my kids get older, they are becoming people I can’t wait to spend time with. I miss their company when I’m away from them and savor it when they are close by.
Although I still wish having more babies was an option, I’m content and incredibly happy to be a mother of kids that are that bit older.
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