When I first felt my daughter’s gentle kick, a swirl of emotions washed over me. I experienced the thrill of new life, the anxiety of what lay ahead, and the wonder of the human experience. I felt every sensation I had been told I might feel, and then some.
In that tender moment, that tiny kick served as a subtle reminder of my desire to stay home with my little girl, nudging me toward a decision that meant leaving my role in your journey. It made me realize that devoting myself to motherhood meant relinquishing the space you once occupied in my life.
I pondered this change during the quiet moments at work and when my baby dancer stirred me awake at night. I wondered if the fulfillment I derived from assisting you could coexist with the joys of motherhood. Could I truly replace one with the other? If not, what did I truly want for myself?
The choice to step away was far from simple. Being part of your birth story was a privilege I cherished deeply.
I remember the first time you entered the delivery room, breathless and filled with a mix of excitement and fear. “How far apart are your contractions? Is your water broken? Is it a boy or girl?” Every detail mattered, and your emotions were palpable. This was your first baby, and you had every reason to feel both exhilaration and trepidation. Motherhood is a journey that requires immense courage.
As we rushed to the operating room, I held your hand tightly, my colleagues swiftly managing the medical necessities around us. “Is a second IV ready? Have we contacted the NNP? How long have the heart tones been down?”
Of course, you were scared—who wouldn’t be? Truth be told, I felt a touch of fear too. But deep down, I believed in your strength and in our ability to navigate this together. I remained at your side as the team prepared for your delivery, and I witnessed the tears of relief cascade down your cheek when you finally heard your baby girl cry.
Then there was you, a seasoned mother, full of confidence. You understood the process and believed in your body’s abilities. You didn’t need to ask questions; you already had the answers. I quietly supported you as you labored, admiring the strength you exuded. When you told me it was time, I simply called the doctor—your intuition was spot on.
And there were so many more of you. Each interaction revealed the highs and lows of motherhood. You allowed me to guide you through breastfeeding, swaddling, and even changing that first tiny diaper. I had the honor of cradling your baby’s head and catching the first glimpse of their beautiful face. You let me be there when tears flowed—the weight of emotion palpable in the room.
You opened the door to your most significant moments, granting me both access and privilege during these precious times. You demonstrated the profound capacity of a mother’s love and reinforced my belief that I, too, could embrace this journey.
Can’t you see? I know you appreciate everything I did for you, but please understand that I am equally thankful for all that you have done for me. Now, as I sit at home with my daughter, I can say with unwavering certainty that this time spent with her is the most fulfilling experience of my life. The joys of motherhood are unparalleled, yet it never felt like a trade-off.
Life offers many joys, and you were one of them. My daughter is another. For now, I may not be able to embrace both worlds, and that’s alright. I will cherish the memories of you while loving her fiercely.
I hope to return and be welcomed back into your lives with open arms. But if the day comes when that’s not possible, remember this: you brought immense joy into my life. The births of your sweet babies were among my greatest honors.
Thank you for allowing me to be part of your journey, for sharing your little ones, and for making it so difficult to say goodbye. Take care, mothers. Take care.
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