My baby turned 18 today.

Eighteen.

And apparently, the universe has decided that the appropriate way to celebrate this milestone is to send me emails informing me that I no longer automatically have access to his medical records, his lab results, or his medical chart.

Thank you, universe. Subtle.

I have also learned that I am no longer automatically his emergency contact at the college he is starting on his 18th birthday.

Because apparently he is now an adult.

I know this is wonderful. I know this is exactly what we are supposed to hope for as parents. I am filled with joy today. I am proud beyond words. I can remember all the steps that brought us here including the tiny baby, the little boy, the teenager, the growing independence, the accomplishments, the challenges, the moments when I wondered if we would ever get to this particular day.

And here we are.

He is 18.

Starting college.

On his birthday.

Which is beautiful.

And also feels suspiciously like the universe is handing me a pamphlet titled “Your Baby Is Now a Little Bird and You Are About to Watch Him Fly Away.”

I understand the concept of adulthood.

I just don’t understand why adulthood requires administrative notifications.

Couldn’t someone simply have sent me an email saying:

“Congratulations! Your child has reached adulthood. Please celebrate.:

Instead, I got:

You no longer have access to his labs.

Okay.

You are not automatically his emergency contact.

Excuse me?

He can now make his own medical decisions.

I KNOW.

I WAS THERE.

I have spent 18 years helping this little person become the person who can now do these things without me.

That is the paradox of parenting. You spend years teaching them to leave you, and then act personally offended when they actually do.

So today, I am going to resist the urge to cling.

Mostly.

I am going to celebrate this extraordinary young man, marvel at how quickly the years passed, and remind myself that growing up was always the goal.

Even if my heart would like to submit an appeal.

Happy 18th birthday, baby.

Fly.

Just maybe don’t fly too far.