Free Fridays: This last baby.

14 November 2025

You watch your kids grow up. The days seem long but the years seem short. If that makes any sense. Suddenly you blink and they can walk. Then they’re off to school. Then they start getting annoying and you miss them when they were little and cuddly. And then you reminisce their baby days and start getting sentimental.

Then you say crazy words like this to your husband: I think we should have another baby.

That is the story of how we got Idris.

Our third, Sarah was such a cute baby but she got older and the baby-ness started fading. She no longer wanted to cuddle, nor did she need me as much anymore. “I want to do it myself!” she’d insist when doing anything. My little baby was not little anymore, so you know… time to make another one.

Motherhood makes your hormones all wonky, I tell you. I suddenly forgot all the challenging nights, sleep-deprived zombie self dragging my limbs to work, the cellulites, the contractions, the (permanent) saggy pouch, the milk pumping every few hours. Just pooffff, forgot it all. If moms remembered them, they’d probably stop at just the one child, thank you.

“I miss having a baby. I miss the cuddles, the cuteness, I even miss the drools!” I said, trying to convince my husband that having another child was a good decision.

“I’m not waking up to help you in the middle of the night with the baby duties,” Fadza warned. I love how he thinks he helped me with night shifts before this…

“No problem,” I said. “I’ll do all the baby stuff myself.”

When I was pregnant with Idris, I knew he was going to be my last child. So I vowed to make the best of motherhood this time – I will spend my every moment with him, I will walk him to the park, I will be his best friend, and he will be my best friend. He will look at me with his big adoring eyes and his first words will be “Mama I love you You’re my best friend..”

But Idris arrived in our lives with his own plans.

Firstly, he didn’t respect the date I chose for him – he decided to come earlier and barge into the world when we weren’t ready yet.

Then, he decided that he was only going to want Fadza, not me. He wanted Fadza to put him to sleep, he wanted Fadza to take him to the park, he wanted Fadza to wrestle him. He was (is) such a boy’s boy that he only wanted to do boy things, and he would choose Fadza over me, every time!

Grrrrrr.

When we were in Bosnia, we’d videocall the kids and Idris would be the most excited to see Fadza on the screen. When it was my face on the screen, he’d actually bend his neck to see if Fadza was behind me or not. So. Annoying.

After a week away (the longest we’ve left the kids!), both Fadza and I were so excited to see the kids. They were in school, so we planned to surprise them at school pickup. When we picked up Idris, I turned to Fadza, “Let me get him, ok. You stay in the car. I want him first!” I pleaded.

So I got out and eagerly waited at the gate for Idris.

When Idris came out and saw me, his lips broke into the biggest smile. His eyes lit up and he looked so excited.

Ahhhhh I miss you too, son! Come here and hug me!

I bent down, ready for him to run to me.

He put on his shoes, and he immediately came running.

As soon as he neared me, I went “Come to Ma – “ and stopped. He was running, but instead of stopping at me, he kept on running.

What just happened?

I turned around behind me.

And there he was. Fadza standing at the gate behind me, with a grin so wide. Idris wasn’t running to me. Idris was running to Fadza, who was behind me. Idris jumped at him and hugged his neck, and both embraced like father and son who haven’t seen each other in years.

It was annoying to watch, to say the least.

Traitor, I muttered under my breath.

“Uhh… I’ll take that,” I smiled graciously to the teacher who was holding Idris’ school bag.

So the three of us walked back to the car together - Idris and his best friend Daddy in locked embrace, and me, the third wheel bag-carrier trailing behind.

It’s quite clear what I need to do next, I think.

I need to have another baby.

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Before you go…

Let me know you’ve read this. Comment “maybe next baby” on my latest post at @sincerelyvivy.

See you there! :)