I recently saw a video on TikTok where a pregnant woman was making a point to save her, instead of her baby, during childbirth.

This really upset me, as I could never think that way. The love I have for my child is a love I have never experienced.

Another video on TikTok came up about a mother who barely speaks to her toddler. I started thinking to myself ‘what are these videos?’, ‘what is this?’ as I couldn’t wrap my head around the coldness of this approach.

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Saying all that, I realise how difficult a journey toddlerhood is and has become for me and my partner. We are at the stage of screaming, throwing tantrums, pinching, slapping and more. It’s so exhausting.

My sweet, quiet newborn, who once fit so perfectly in my arms, now feels like a distant memory. There was nothing like that newborn smell, the newborn cuddles and the bond that we shared immediately.

That bond never went away, the only thing that changed was time and we simply can’t stop it nor change it.

At 16 months, my little boy is finding his voice in a way I never quite anticipated – a voice that often manifests in ear-splitting screams in public and heartbreaking head-slams into my chest.

This isn’t the gentle transition I imagined; it’s the raw, often bewildering reality of toddlerhood.

There’s a certain heartache that comes with watching your once-tiny, docile baby transform into a 16-month-old tornado of emotion. And of course, it’s understanable that this is how he expresses his frustration, anger and annoyance.

It’s about navigating a raw, sometimes profoundly heartbreaking, reality for both of us – a journey of intense emotions, boundary-testing, and constant adjustment that often feels miles away from the serene bubble of babyhood.

To say he was a ‘good baby’ doesn’t mean that he isn’t a ‘good toddler’. It’s just the stark difference now to when he was a static newborn who slept a lot.

Now, when we go to a cafe, a restaurant, even a park and our little one screams his head off, naturally, people stare. It can be overwhelming and sometimes embarrassing, even though these moments are completely normal.

And to add to that, he’s now pulling out of things, grabbing things and throwing things. We can bear it when this happens at home, not when we’re dining and he starts slamming cutlery on the ground.

The heartbreaking side of things comes from the fact that my once-tiny baby is growing up and it should be something I am excited about and proud of. And of course, I am, but I think it’s also OK to admit that well, I’m not OK.

While my love for him deepens every day, this challenging and sometimes truly heartbreaking phase is a stark contrast to the peaceful calm of his infancy.

He was a great sleeper and a quiet baby, didn’t cry much in contrast to the crying and tantrums that happen now. Those ear-piercingly loud screams that even the neighbours can hear!

It’s a period that tests patience and tugs at the heartstrings in ways I never foresaw, proving that the journey through early parenthood is anything but linear.

Alone-time with my partner is slowly but surely disappearing right in front of my eyes. After work, when Alex comes home to us, he is so incredibly hyper and even hyper-exhausted.

And as every parent knows, the struggle to get your baby to sleep is another challenge in itself. For a baby that’s so tired and rubbing his eyes, why isn’t he sleeping? It often takes us hours to get him down and by the time he does fall into a deep sleep, it’s bedtime for us too.

I guess this emotinal stage with my toddler is also coming with a lot of ‘lasts’ and ‘ends’. The last time he slept on my tummy was a while ago now. The last time he slept with us in the bed was months ago, he’s too big for that now.

All these little cute moments I have cherished because now instead of hugs, I’m receiving slaps and head slams. I know these things are completely normal and the tantrums are just going to get worse, but it’s really becoming quite sad.

These moments are particularly magnified when we’re out in public, like in a quiet restaurant, where every raised voice feels amplified. The stares from other diners, while perhaps not malicious, can feel incredibly heavy, adding layers of self-consciousness to an already overwhelming situation.

We know, intellectually, that he’s simply finding his voice, learning to express his big emotions in the only way he knows how right now, and that this is a completely normal developmental stage.

Yet, for my partner and me, weathering these storms in front of an audience, trying to soothe a screaming toddler while feeling the weight of curious glances, remains an incredibly difficult and overwhelmingly hard situation to be in.

And like all dramatic toddlers, until he is fed or has a bottle in hand, he screams the place down and boy is he loud!

Despite the tears, the frustrations, and those moments of utter exhaustion, there’s an undeniable undercurrent of fierce love that propels us forward.

This heartbreaking truth isn’t a permanent state, but a challenging, crucial stage of growth for both us and our child.

It’s a messy, beautiful, and profoundly real journey, and one that, despite its difficulties, we wouldn’t trade for the world.