The moment I became a mother, the life I once knew immersed with my wants and needs, transformed into midnight feedings and up all night worries, hoping to fulfill all of this precious new life’s needs.
As she grew, I did too, more in love with her everyday. I had suddenly found my purpose in life was this very child, and finally, I gladly closed the last chapter of uncertainty away. God had given me this sweet gift and with that responsibility, I was consumed with a sense of peace. My time was now hers and a few years later there was no longer one child in our family, but two.
My life felt complete with these two little angels. God knew my hearts wish and like a dream it had come true. Our days overflowed with cuddles, diaper changes, tea parties, bath and bedtime routines, snacks and feedings, playing dollies and dancing, and although at times by the end of the day I was spent, every morning with a glimpse of their sweet faces, I was ready for more.
Undoubtedly, there were days I questioned everything, as most mothers do. The unequivocal responsibility of doing what is best for our children can be daunting.
We consume ourselves with the, should haves, could haves, and would haves throughout the days, weeks, months, and years. Still though, being home with these little people, was what I longed to do.
My oldest daughter turned four and it was time to give preschool a whirl, I felt a tug in my heart as just a touch of our time together began to slip away. Mostly though, my days were with my sweet girls and with that, my heart was full.
Kindergarten came and went, first and second grade, too. With my first born there were a few tears, fears and kissing hand smooches, but we pushed through and looked forward to spending time together on weekends and every afternoon.
But there is a shift in season upon us in more ways than one, as we inch closer to fall. We are nearing the end of an era and the onset of another. My youngest child will follow in her big sister’s shoes this fall as she begins Kindergarten. What this means for me, is that for the first time in nine years, I will not have a tiny human home to keep me company.
*Cue the waterworks…
It has been nine years since I left my career, my home, and my family to embark on this new journey as a stay-at-home mom, while proudly serving as co-pilot to my flyboy as he serves in the USAF. Staying home with our children was something we felt would be best with our unique lifestyle. It has been such a blessing to me and something I am proud of knowing that if asked again, I would choose this life every time.
I can’t help but question, how will I fill my “time,” through the day while they are away at school? I am no longer the person I was before they graced this world with their presence, so in a way I am starting new. I am uncertain of what will be written on the pages of my next chapter, but I pray for the unveiling of gifts He has graciously given to me so I can bring more glory to Him and to others as I learn to reinvent myself.
This “time” I have had with my children has gone all too quickly, just like everyone said it would. The robust word “time,” is used so often and yet when we run out of it, somehow it feels like we didn’t know it was coming. None the less, I am grateful for the beautiful compilation of so many of my favorite memories over the years that, “time” has generously given us.
Although I am hesitant to close this treasured chapter that built me, I will do so expectantly and confidently knowing full and well that we are in good hands.
So as I wipe the tears from my eyes, I hold close to the incredible memories made at home with my babies. Farewell to this chapter, you have been my favorite, but it’s time I turn the page.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11