As a mother of four wonderful, healthy children, you might think I would find it easy to declare that my family is complete. After all, having four kids seems like more than enough for anyone. But in reality, there’s a deep sadness that accompanies the conclusion of my childbearing years.
Holding my youngest, a sweet little boy whose smile lights up the room, I can’t help but feel a pang in my heart when I think about all the “lasts” I will experience with him. The final time he drifts off while nursing, or the last instance he gazes up at me with those enchanting hazel eyes, silently asking to be held. It’s a bittersweet realization that time is fleeting.
With my first child, I cherished each “first” moment—the initial smile, the first laugh, those adorable first steps. I was eager for their growth, feeling pride as they reached each milestone. Now, all I desire is just one more day to cuddle that tiny seven-pound baby I fell in love with ten months ago.
Carrying a child is a profound experience, and the ability to bring a new life into the world is nothing short of miraculous. Yet, I never expected to feel such an overwhelming sense of loss when I see expectant mothers shopping in the grocery store. I am mourning a chapter of my life that has defined me for the past nine years.
Gone are the carefree nights out with friends; now they’ve been replaced with late-night feedings and family dinners. Life has shifted dramatically, and I often find myself reflecting on the incredible journey of motherhood.
It’s hard to accept that I will no longer wait those long nine months to discover whether my baby will have brown or blue eyes, or if that heartburn is a sign of a head full of hair. Instead of counting my blessings, I feel a sense of fatigue and—dare I say—age.
I find myself wrestling with the urge to give unsolicited advice to my younger brother, who has just welcomed his first child. Interestingly, I wasn’t one of those women who enjoyed every second of pregnancy. Between the sciatica, hormonal upheavals, and relentless morning sickness, it’s almost surprising I chose to have more than one child.
When you first enter motherhood, you are often advised to savor every moment, as time flies by. You nod in agreement, but in those sleepless nights, it’s hard to appreciate the journey. How did I go from being a novice mom to a seasoned one with the battle scars to prove it? Soon, three of my four children will be in elementary school, and my oldest will be in third grade.
Instead of celebrating this milestone, I find myself sneaking into the kitchen for a bag of cookies, overwhelmed by the realization that my baby is growing up. I look at the pile of clothes that no longer fit him, reminders of the tiny human he once was.
I know many women struggle with conceiving or carrying a child, so I often wonder if I have the right to grieve my empty womb after having four children. Life moves forward, whether we’re prepared for it or not, and our children grow a little every day. We often miss those “lasts” without even realizing it.
If I could offer any advice, it would be to pause. Forget about the clutter and laundry, and focus on those fleeting moments with your little ones. Put down your phone, cuddle your baby, and engage with your older children. They change so quickly, and you may miss the opportunity to truly see them.
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