Recently, my nap-fighting 18-month-old fell asleep – soundly – on my chest. It’s hard to remember the last time we sat together like that in his dark-as-night nursery, with his sound machine on full blast, rocking in the darkness, his heartbeat in sync with mine. He may be at least 15 pounds heavier, but he’s still my baby. His warm, sticky little toddler hands wrapped around my neck – a gesture so simple, yet so powerful. It’s his way of telling the universe that I belong to him.
Thinking back to the foggy haze of postpartum, he would nap on me almost all day long – stuck like glue. Those moments seemed to blur together and last forever and yet today, they feel so far away. The exhaustion of those days sometimes clouded the sweetness of my newfound motherhood. I wish someone would’ve told me how quickly things would change and how the season of carrying him, nursing him, and healing wouldn’t last forever. Even on my hardest nights, I didn’t break and I wish I would’ve known that those were the nights that made me stronger and brought my son and I closer together. At the time, I believed I’d be stuck in that phase forever but flash forward to now, and my son seldom wants to be in my arms – his little voice often saying “down” when I’m holding him, his little legs eager to hit the ground running.
Every day of toddlerhood, my son enters a new phase, whether it’s climbing, running, jumping, or talking, he is constantly learning something new. I’m excited every time he does something new, but I rarely think about the “last time” he did something, such as nurse, crawl, nap on my chest … Now, I’m reminded that these phases don’t last forever, and soon he’ll grow out of them and we won’t experience those moments with him again.
So much of motherhood is spent counting down to the next milestone. But like passing mile markers on the interstate, in an instant, those milestone moments are gone, and we have nothing left to anticipate.
In the quiet darkness, I realized that I shouldn’t always be waiting for what’s next. Instead, I should focus on what’s right now. The sweet smell of my baby’s hair, the way he soaked my sleeve in drool, and even the soreness in my chest from carrying the weight of him. When I was younger, I used to dream about this time of my life – and now I’m finally here. I’d like to sit, relax, and stay a while.
Nap time is an important part of any mom’s day – an opportunity to get things done without interruptions. But at that moment, I put aside the agenda and to-do lists and focused on him. Somedays I find myself caught up in maximizing my time to get through my lists. But this nap reminded me that being present and slowing down doesn’t get in the way of being productive, it provides me with a much needed break for my own mental health. This nap reminded me that I’m irreplaceable to him and replaceable in everything else. He doesn’t care if the laundry is folded or the dishwasher is emptied, he just wants to be close to me. I’m enough for him at this moment. As moms, we can sometimes feel a constant pressure to prove that we’re doing it all and handling it with ease. I’ve learned that there is no way to show the work that I put in everyday in motherhood, it’s unquantifiable. It’s moments like this one, that no one sees, where I am his safe space, his home, his everything all at once.
This 30-minute nap – though not as long as I would’ve liked it to be – taught me the value of time, and that one of motherhood’s greatest gifts is staying still. Before long, I’ll be waiting by the phone, wishing my son were home, and safe with me. So while I can, I’ll keep him close and in my arms, just a little longer. Until he’s not so little anymore. And if you’ve found yourself in the thick of it too, I hope this is a reminder for you to pause – even for a moment – and soak in those valuable minutes of motherhood.
