Still Missing the Baby Years: A Love Letter to the Past

Dear Baby Years,

I didn’t know it then, but You were the sweetest kind of chaos. You came in like a wave… loud, messy, tender, and full of firsts. You filled my arms with tiny bodies and my days with lullabies, goldfish crackers, and little feet kicking in footie pajamas. I didn’t always get it right. I was tired, unsure, and stretched thin. But I loved you. Oh, how I loved you, Baby years.

Now, those babies are almost 12, 10, and 7. We are fully into kid life now: car lines, cleats, class projects, and big feelings I can’t always fix with a kiss. They carry their own backpacks now. They pour their own cereal. They read chapter books and slam doors. They are funny and loud and brilliant and kind. They are everything I ever prayed for. And yet, sometimes, I still miss the babies they once were. I miss you.

I miss the weight of a sleeping toddler on my chest. I miss the way a chubby hand would reach for mine without hesitation. I miss the sound of baby giggles echoing through a quiet afternoon. I miss being their whole world. And if I’m being honest, I miss being needed in that small, all-consuming way.

Photos pop up on my phone and my heart aches for you. They were just a few years ago, though it feels like a lifetime. I see gummy smiles, messy highchair trays, bare feet running through sprinklers, and pudgy arms reaching for mama. I stare too long. I feel that tug in my chest. That ache that only another mother could understand.

But I’m not stuck in the past, not really. I love this season, too. I love the way we talk now—really talk—about dreams and worries and what’s for dinner. I love their wit, their growth, their growing independence. I’m proud of who they’re becoming. I wouldn’t go back… but some days, I would give anything to go back for just a minute. Just long enough to hold them close and breathe you in again.

You, Baby Years, were loud and exhausting. You were tender and wild. You were everything. And while you’re gone from our home, you’re not gone from my heart. You helped shape me into the mother I am today. You gave me roots. You taught me how to love deep, give endlessly, and grow through the mess.

Thank you for the sleepless nights, the slobbery kisses, the quiet snuggles, and the lessons I didn’t even know I was learning.

I miss you every day. And I always will.

Yours Truly,
A Mama Who’s Still Learning to Let Go ~ Katie