I know I’m supposed to be totally chill because this is my second baby.
And yet. Is it just that I read lots of stuff about babies and parents because I write for Babble, or has there been an onslaught of new information lately about all the ways I need to not kill my baby?
It’s that or I’m not nearly as relaxed as I think I am, or as I thought I would be, the second time around.
I keep checking on my baby. To make sure she’s breathing. To ensure I haven’t flattened her head like a pancake. To make sure she’s swaddled enough (but not too much). To make sure she hasn’t performed a miraculous rollover at the tender age of 66 days old.
I thought that kind of parenting stress was for newbies, not a seasoned pro of three whole years.
It’s not that I thought I wouldn’t care about my baby’s well being, or that I would slack on the things parents need to be vigilant about. It’s just that I thought after two months I would stop checking on her during her naps to make sure she was breathing. Or touch her cheek at night to make sure rigor mortis hadn’t set it. It’s morbid, right? It needs to have stopped. And yet.
Guess I was wrong.
When did you stop checking to make sure your baby was breathing? Or haven’t you yet?
Image: Meredith Carroll