Big Lasts

As a doula and someone who works closely with expectant and new parents, I spend a lot of time celebrating the Big Firsts. You know, those magical milestones that everyone talks about – the first smile, first foods, first words, and those wobbly first steps that make your heart burst with pride.

But lately, I’ve found myself thinking about something we don’t often talk about: the Big Lasts.

If you have older children, you’ve probably experienced this in one way or another. Maybe you remember the last time your little one slept in their cot before graduating to a “big kid” bed. Or the last day they toddled off to their nursery, backpack almost bigger than they were. Maybe you can recall – with bittersweet clarity – the last time they needed your help wiping their bottom (an unglamorous but strangely poignant milestone!).

In September, my third child had his Last First Day at school. That in itself felt like the end of an era – the final chapter in a book that I’ve loved reading but can’t reread. I also vividly remember the day I decided to stop breastfeeding my youngest daughter. I chose the moment carefully, knowing I needed the emotional support of my doula friends to hold space for me. These were conscious Lasts, moments I knew were coming. Because I could see them on the horizon, I had the chance to prepare myself, to mark them, and to honour their significance.

But then, there are the unconscious Lasts – the ones that slip by unnoticed until they’re long gone. The last time your child calls you “Mummy” before suddenly deciding you’re just “Mum” now. Or worse – “Bro.” The last time they crawl into your bed in the middle of the night because they need your warmth and comfort. The last time you read a bedtime story together before they start preferring the voices in their own head (because, apparently, yours are too annoying).

These are the moments that, in hindsight, feel just as monumental as the Big Firsts. Maybe even more so, because they’re laced with the ache of time slipping away – of childhood fading into independence. And while we don’t always notice these Big Lasts in the moment, they’re milestones in their own right. They mark the evolution of your relationship with your child. They remind you that raising a human being is as much about letting go as it is about holding on.

So, let’s take a moment to honour the Big Lasts. Whether they fill you with nostalgia, bring a lump to your throat, or – let’s be honest – a sigh of relief (did I mention the bum wiping?), they matter. They’re a sign that you’re raising an independent, capable human with their own unique desires, quirks, and autonomy.

But they’re also an invitation to pause. To celebrate how far you’ve come as a parent. To grieve what’s passed, if you need to. And to prepare yourself for the next Big Last, because there will be more to come.

Parenting is full of these poignant transitions – the ones we cherish, the ones we mourn, and even the ones we cheer for. And every single one of them is a reminder of the incredible journey you’re on. So, whether you’re wiping a bum for the last time or savouring one final bedtime snuggle, know this: you’re doing an amazing job.

And for the record, I’m still grieving the bedtime stories.