I don’t want to hold your baby.

I don’t want to hold your baby. I’m sorry. 

Actually, I’m not sorry. I have been holding one, or more, of my own babies for nearly seven years straight. I have had more than my fair share of sleepless nights, snotty noses, and squishy infants to hold. When it’s your own, you have no choice. Of course, I love my kids and I am eternally grateful for each of them. But for every ounce of gratitude, I carry a pound of “never again”. 

They say that when you know, you know. This phrase could be used for many things in life, but when you’re done having kids, YOU KNOW. Trust me. I always wanted two kids. After number one, I started thinking that I might want three. Number two came along and I knew the day she was born that she was to be a middle child. After a few years we tried for number three and let me tell you, I cannot imagine my life without him, but I was done having kids about two months into my pregnancy with that kid. I knew with every fiber of my being that I was done. Completely done. No more kids. Ever. For sure. I would take every precaution to be sure that my body would never produce another human being. I put notes in my OBGYN paperwork that if I ended up having a C-section, please for the love of God tie my tubes. My husband agreed to be neutered. I didn’t end up having the C-section so I went in for another IUD the first day they’d let me after my third was born, even though my husband was getting snipped. Take no chances. I am DONE. 

I went to a Halloween party about three months after my last was born. I held him in the carrier during the party and never bothered to ask if anyone wanted to hold him. It was a Halloween party full of parents with young kids. Why would they want to hold my baby while they were holding and chasing around their own tiny humans? Near the end of the party a woman I barely knew asked if she could hold him to which I replied, “Really? You don’t have to, but if you do I might run”. She laughed and held him for a while, and then before handing him back to me she asked another mom if she’d like a turn. To my great surprise, the other mom said, “Nope”. What a badass. My immediate thought was, GOOD FOR HER. I know how she feels! This lady has got 4 kids of her own. She’s been holding her own babies for even longer than me, and she is also DONE. Like, for sure. Why can’t we all be so honest? There are many people who love to hold babies. They love to snuggle the mush balls and smell their hair, and touch their soft feet, and rock them back and forth. I am not one of those people. At least, not right now.

I thought I would never want to hold another baby again. I have told quite a few people that the next baby I hold is going to be my grandkid cause I am that over it. But I’ll let you in on a little secret. It’s coming back. Very, very, very slowly for sure. But it will come back. I recently went to see a friend’s newborn and I avoided holding that little turd-bucket like the plague. Eventually, I had to give in. She’s a wonderful friend and I can only be a grump for so long. I reluctantly lifted the teeny baby into my arms and without even so much as a thought, I snuggled him right into position. Mama’s still got it. I will admit that I enjoyed the way my body began rocking automatically, and how he felt nearly weightless in my arms. I also enjoyed giving him back. 

There is a season for all things, and I have completed my season of baby-making. I have turned a hard corner and the rear-view mirror has been purposely snapped off. I know that someday I might be more eager to hold your newborn bundle of sour neck creases, but today is not that day. Your kid is cute from over there. Please don’t make me hold it.