There are moments in motherhood that sneak up on you. They don’t come with fireworks or fanfare—just quiet shifts that suddenly remind you how quickly time is moving.
For me, one of those moments was saying goodbye to the crib.
We didn’t switch our son’s crib to a big kid bed until he was three. For three years, that crib was more than just a place for him to sleep—it was a safe space, a comfort zone, a piece of our daily rhythm.
I watched him grow inside those rails, from tiny newborn stretches to bouncing toddler giggles. I can still hear the sound of his little hands gripping the bars when he woke up, calling for me. I can still picture him rolling over to find his favorite stuffed animal tucked in the corner.
I spent countless nights leaning against its side, exhausted but determined, waiting for him to drift back to sleep. Nights where I whispered lullabies and prayed for rest. Sometimes, I lay on the floor beside him, hand slipped between the rails just so he would know I was there.
My husband and I both took turns in that sacred space—feeding, rocking, changing, comforting. The crib was where we learned how to be parents. It held our frustrations, our exhaustion, and our overwhelming love.
And it held him.
His first smile. His first dreams. His little hands were reaching through the rails for comfort.
So yes, saying goodbye was hard. Not just for me—but for him too. That crib was the only bed he had ever known. It was his safe place. At first, even he wasn’t ready to let it go. He climbed in and out, holding the sides like an old friend. And honestly? Part of me wanted to hold on right there with him.
But children grow. They outgrow clothes, routines, and yes—even cribs. The day came when we tucked him into his new big kid bed. He looked so small and yet so big, all at once. My heart swelled with pride, even as it ached with the bittersweet reality that babyhood was truly behind us.
That’s the thing about motherhood: we are always learning to let go, little by little. And every goodbye makes room for a new hello.
A Poem for the Crib
Between these rails, my baby lay,
Through midnight cries and the light of day.
I held your hand when sleep was near,
I whispered love so you could hear.
I sat beside you, tired but true,
Every sigh a memory too.
This crib held moments, soft and deep,
The prayers I whispered as you fell asleep.
Now you climb higher, bold and free,
A little less baby, more child to me.
Goodbye to the crib, but never the years,
It will always be lined with love—and tears.
For the Mom Saying Goodbye Too
If you’re standing in the nursery, running your hand along the crib one last time, know this: it’s okay to feel attached. You’re not silly for crying. That crib has held your baby, your memories, your tears, and your love.
It’s where you both learned comfort. Where you both felt safe. Where you both grew.
Motherhood is full of these little goodbyes—bittersweet markers of time passing. And yet, with every goodbye comes a new hello. Hello to independence. Hello to adventures. Hello to the little person they are becoming.
So here’s to the crib.
Here’s to the memories.
And here’s to all the big kid adventures waiting just beyond those rails.
✨ Pin this for later if you’re a mama in the middle of this transition. You’re not alone—it’s okay to feel all the feels. ✨
