Nobody Warns You About This Part of Having a Baby

Everyone talks about the sleepless nights.
The nappies.
The feeding schedules.

But nobody warns you about how fast it all disappears.

Not slowly.
Not gently.
Just — gone.

One day you’re memorising the weight of a tiny body on your chest.
The next, you’re packing away clothes that were only worn twice.

The strange grief no one names

There’s a quiet grief that comes with early parenthood.

It’s not sadness exactly.
It’s the shock of realising that a moment can be both ordinary and once-in-a-lifetime at the same time.

You don’t know it’s the last contact nap.
You don’t know it’s the final time their fingers curl around yours like that.
You don’t know until much later.

And by then, the moment is already gone.

Why we cling to objects

This is where things get interesting.

Humans don’t keep objects because we love stuff.
We keep them because they anchor memory.

A card.
A box.
A photo.
A small wooden block with a date on it.

These things aren’t sentimental — they’re evidence. Proof that something real happened in a blur of exhaustion and love.

The difference between clutter and keepsakes

There’s a line — and parents learn it fast.

Clutter feels heavy.
Keepsakes feel grounding.

Clutter says, “I don’t know where to put this.”
Keepsakes say, “This belongs somewhere safe.”

That’s why the items parents treasure most are rarely the biggest or most expensive. They’re the ones tied to a specific moment.

First smile.
First night home.
First everything.

The future version of you

Here’s the part most people don’t think about when buying a baby gift:

You’re not buying for today.

You’re buying for:

• The parent who will stumble across it years later

• The child who will ask, “Was I really that small?”

• The quiet afternoon when someone opens a box and pauses

That’s when a gift reveals its real value.

Giving something that survives time

The most meaningful baby gifts don’t try to be impressive.

They try to be enduring.

They say:

• “Keep this.”

• “You’ll want this later.”

• “This part mattered, even if it felt like chaos.”

And long after the nappies are gone, the clothes donated, and the toys passed on — those are the gifts that remain.

Because they didn’t just celebrate a baby.

They honoured a moment that only existed once.

HUSH LITTLE BABE