It’s on the horizon, and I can sense it creeping closer. The bottle is long gone, the Boppy pillow has been retired, and baby-wearing is now a memory. My breast pump has gathered dust in the back of the closet, its motor’s rhythmic whomp-whomp still echoes in my mind. This transition is no longer a faint glimmer; it’s shining brightly like the dawn. We’re nearing the end of the baby years, that era of constant cuddles and chaotic demands.
If you were to see us now, you might argue that we still have plenty of time left. My youngest, well, she’s still in the baby phase, and my eldest won’t start school until next fall. But deep down, I feel it in my very soul. My daughter is already picking out her own outfits and “helping” with laundry—what a joy it is to see her color on the walls instead of paper! Toddlerhood has arrived with all its delightful charm and its challenges. When I’m folding laundry, I pause to differentiate between my socks and my son’s. When did his feet grow so large?
Yes, the next chapter is fast approaching. It should bring a sense of relief, right? A chance to shift gears. After all, motherhood with young children is often held in special regard. “Oh, I recall those days,” others say, nodding knowingly at our weary eyes, disheveled hair, and the frazzled state of our minds. They understand the sleepless nights, the endless cycle of runny noses from October to April, and the daily grind of feeding and diapering. Some days, it feels as if the weight of motherhood could crush me.
“Hang in there. It gets better,” they reassure, offering a comforting pat on the back.
Yet here I stand, teetering on the brink of “better” and all that it promises—sleep, uninterrupted showers, hobbies that seem like a distant memory. Still, I find myself clinging to the familiar chaos of the baby years. I whisper to myself, “Just a little longer.” I want them to need me like this, to cherish these moments just a bit more.
I even suggested the idea of having a third child to my husband—an idea he gently but firmly dismissed. I understand his perspective; it’s more about my fear of moving forward than a longing to stay where I am. This phase has tested me beyond my limits; I’ve learned to function on minimal energy, just enough to get through the day before collapsing into bed to start anew. But soon, there will be opportunities for more.
If I’m being honest, what frightens me is the thought of rediscovering who I am beyond motherhood. Pursuing my dreams instead of just chasing after little ones. Losing the excuses that have kept me from finding myself again.
“Roots and wings.” This mantra plays in my mind as I nurture my children—reminding me that all my love and efforts are meant to empower them to flourish and eventually stand on their own. Perhaps, this promise extends to me, too. My life with little ones does not define me. My roots run deep, and there was a person before them. I’ll reconnect with that version of myself once more.
For more insights on parenting and the journey of motherhood, check out this post on our blog here. And if you’re navigating the world of at-home insemination, consider visiting Make a Mom for quality insemination kits. Additionally, March of Dimes provides excellent resources for pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, as we transition out of the baby years and into a new phase, it’s a time of reflection. While the challenges of motherhood are immense, embracing change can lead to personal growth and newfound freedom. The journey ahead is filled with possibilities, and it’s time to spread my wings.
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