You’re missing it.

I whispered to the tired, pregnant mama fretting over an unflattering picture of herself—her body stretching and changing to support her growing baby.

You’re missing it.

I realized as I once again snapped a picture without me in it because I was not “ready for it.” Overlooking the fact my babies do not care that I am sitting in sweatpants and a top knot.

You’re missing it.

I said to myself, looking back at the mama-to-be who was smiling but simultaneously worrying about how the reveal poster does not look anything like the Pinterest version.

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You’re missing it.

I thought as I felt the pull of my phone while playing with my kids. For it seems my girls are growing when I’m not looking.

You’re missing it.

My daughter’s eyes tell me as I quickly charge off to our destination, my daughter embracing the scenic route, excitedly pointing out every flower, tree, and bug along the way.

You’re missing it.

I realized as I stood there worrying about my body in a bathing suit as my baby girl felt the ocean tide on her tiny toes for the first time.

I have let the voice in my head rise above the truth.

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I have let other’s opinions become louder than my own.

I have let my constant need for perfection distract me from what is truly important.

But I refuse to miss anything else.

Originally published on the author’s Facebook page