I’m 40, yet I find myself surrounded by friends who are continually having babies. Seriously, they’re producing little ones faster than my ten-year-old can whip up friendship bracelets. Every time someone posts a picture of their cute, chubby infant on social media, it triggers a flood of comments from other women declaring they have “baby fever,” or that their “ovaries are going to burst,” or that they plan to “snatch that baby.” Some even joke about wanting to eat the baby! Wait, what?
I experienced baby fever for about two minutes with each of my kids—just that fleeting moment from when I hoped to conceive to when I actually did. After that, I was completely done with the idea of having more babies. Yes, even when my children were infants. Of course, I loved them dearly; I have video evidence of my enthusiastic squeals when my baby boy clapped for the first time. And who can resist the cuteness of a toddler who has just learned to walk? Plus, there’s simply no comparison to the sound of a baby’s laughter. I’m not heartless.
But let’s be real: babies are a ton of work. They keep bizarre hours, require constant feeding (seriously, it’s like 52 times a day), and they want to cling to you all the time. I value my alone time and don’t particularly enjoy being pawed at by tiny hands. And let’s not forget the sleep. Have you ever experienced a solid eight hours of sleep? It’s magnificent!
Ironically, as demanding as they are, babies can also be unbelievably dull. Sure, they’re cute, but after the first ten minutes, you’re left wondering what on earth to do next. We’ve already run through all the fun activities we could possibly enjoy together, Baby. Should we tackle a crossword or watch a documentary? But no, babies are not interested in such things. Their world revolves around milk and brightly colored objects, and they are not the best at holding conversations—knowing only a handful of words at best.
So, I simply don’t understand the baby fever phenomenon. In fact, every new stage my kids reach becomes my favorite, surpassing babyhood. Admittedly, I once thought the baby phase was the best, but that was just the magic of motherhood playing tricks on me. Once they outgrew that monotonous stage, I discovered the joy of two-way conversations, independence, and the wonderful realization that they could actually help me out. I haven’t folded laundry in five years. Babies? They can’t fold laundry!
I had kids because I wanted kids, not babies. While I appreciated their infant stages, hormones can cloud your judgment. Every stage after babyhood has continually amazed me. For instance, two years ago, my son was at a fantastic stage, but now, he’s even better. At 13, he brings a whole new level of personality to the table. This kid, who once had a slightly cone-shaped head from being born, is now nearly as tall as me and plays the piano by ear. Can you imagine? It’s infinitely more enjoyable than dealing with an infant.
My ten-year-old daughter is another marvel; she’s so compassionate that it could almost be a flaw. She’s likely to experience “baby fever” herself someday. Recently, she’s taken up card magic tricks, which absolutely captivates me. Here’s this not-so-little human who once was just a zygote inside me, now exploring the complexities of card counting with a focus I could never muster. Babies are cute, but my ten-year-old performs card tricks and creates her own jokes. What a miracle!
I used to fret that my lack of obsession with babies meant I was somehow flawed, that I lacked the nurturing instinct that was supposed to radiate from me whenever I encountered a baby. But I’ve come to understand that the urge to have babies doesn’t hit everyone the same way; it’s all part of the spectrum of human experience, and I’m perfectly okay with it.
I genuinely enjoy spending time with my kids and look forward to our moments together, unlike when they were babies. Sure, I loved them fiercely, but I also dreaded the endless cycle of diaper changes and aimless baby chatter. There were blissful moments, but they were often interspersed with a significant amount of boredom and longing for the day to end.
So, yes, I do think “Oh my gosh, that baby is adorable” when I see a cute infant. But I never feel the itch to have another baby or even to babysit. I might help out a friend if they needed me to watch their baby, but I must confess: after the first hour, I’ll likely be pretending to be interested, no matter how cute that little one is.
In conclusion, while I can appreciate the cuteness of babies, my real joy lies in the unique personalities and experiences that come with each stage of my children’s growth.
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Keyphrase: Baby Fever
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