I’ll Never Be Sorry I Held You Instead

You drifted into dreamland on my chest—I could have put you down, but I couldn’t.

In fact, when I  became a mom everyone told me NOT to let you nap on me, that I would be creating a habit.

And they were right.

But not in the way you might think. It wasn’t “your” bad habit I created—it was mine. I became addicted to letting you sleep on me.

I could have put you down, but I couldn’t.

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All those naps when I could have been doing dishes and laundry and making lists, I let you sleep on me.

I could have put you down, but I couldn’t.

Everyone else talked about how much they accomplished during naptime, but I was the opposite. I got nothing done while I stared at you, my everything.

I could have put you down, but I couldn’t.

And after three high-risk pregnancies and three beautiful babies, I regret none of it!

So go ahead, you have my permission, now give yourself the same and let that sweet baby sleep on your chest if you so choose because I swear you’ll blink and their little chunky body will be gone.

That new baby smell doesn’t last forever, but I promise the dishes and laundry and lists do.

All the “bad habits” people tell new moms about are not all that bad. I listened to no one. I’m sure I broke all the rules and ended up with three kids practically velcroed to my or my husband’s body because they all slept on him too.

And we loved every second. The closeness, the comfort, the warmth, the snuggles—if you are blessed to be a parent, never take those things for granted. 

No one will ever want to hug and squeeze and sit on you more than your young kids. I know you feel over-touched (believe me, I know!). My husband and I had a conversation about how we are quick to snap sometimes because we are constantly needed with three little ones, day and night.

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But it goes so fast, and we are seeing that now. They are 6, 3, and 10 months, and the 10-month-old, well, he’s our last baby, so guess where he is right now while I write this?

He’s sleeping on his dada’s chest and holding his thumb while my husband pats his head and loves every minute.  

He can put him down and kick the bad habit, but I guarantee you he won’t.

He’s staring at you: his everything.

Dedicated to our three beautiful children . . . Charles, Rosemary, and John.