Parenting 101
I wish someone would have warned me....
I have always loved being a parent. Helping these tiny creatures that I created grow into amazing adults gave my life a purpose and was one of the best experiences I ever had. I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to be a part of these incredible people’s lives. Sharing every moment with them. Their wins, their pain, laughing with them, drying their tears. It was awesome. I wouldn’t change any of it. But there is a part that I was not prepared for. It ripped my soul apart and left me empty and a shell of a person. Eventually these people that I could not imagine my life without, the ones that every decision I ever made was made with them in mind, leave. And then I am left wondering who I am and wondering if my life has any meaning left.
My journey into motherhood was anything but typical. On the morning of January 31, I woke up and began my day like any other, still battling the morning sickness that had lingered through my 28th week of pregnancy. But by 5:00 p.m., I found myself in a cold, sterile delivery room, preparing to give birth far earlier than expected. At 5:26 p.m., my first child entered the world—kicking, screaming, and surprisingly strong for her fragile gestational age.
In that instant, something miraculous happened. Without ever seeing her face, only hearing her first cry, I felt an overwhelming shift within me. My focus left myself entirely and fixed on her. That cry seemed to transform me into someone new—someone whose only desire was to protect and love this tiny, determined human.
She spent 56 days in the NICU, enduring multiple blood transfusions and surgeries, and I spent every moment I could at her bedside until she was finally released. While I missed the typical early bonding that comes with a full-term birth, the experience changed me forever.
Over the next 30 years, parenting became the rhythm of my life—filling every waking thought and moment with purpose. I poured my heart into raising the eight amazing children I would go on to give birth to, loving each one with an all-encompassing devotion. I never wanted it to end. I cannot imagine a better life.
But when the time finally came and we all went our own way, nothing at all prepared me for the absolute emptiness that it would leave me with. Suddenly the days filled of running to the store together, cooking and caring for them were gone. The talks around the table, the jokes about Malcom in the Middle were distant memories and now all I hear is a deafening silence. The big dinners I loved preparing every night that we sat together and enjoyed have become single ingredient make shift meals sitting on the couch. I spent every waking minute with these remarkable people making my life completely about them and then all of a sudden it’s over. Thirty years flew by in a blink of an eye.
No more sitting on the front porch watching them ride their bikes up and down the street. No more “hey mom watch this”. No more reading books before bedtime, nighttime snuggles, and goodnight hugs and kisses. No more waking up to comfort them when they were scared. No more family vacations or programs at school. No more being woken up at 5am on Christmas morning and seeing the excitement and anticipation in their eyes. All the things that made my life meaningful and enjoyable are gone and I’m not sure how to come back from this.
While they were young and I was in the thick of it, I knew they are going to grow up and leave, in fact I raised them so they can live on their own, but it seemed so far off. It was a passing, fleeting thought.
I will explain to people my pain and they will say, “now is the time to do the things you never could when you had kids”. But I never wanted to do anything else. I always just wanted to be a mom. I always just wanted to be with my kids.
Now, I will text me kids “how are you doing” and I get one word responses when before they would go on and on about their day. Before they would tell me all the exciting things that are going on in their life, now I find out from other people social media posts what’s going on in their life and I feel gutted. I’m jealous of the people who get to be a part of my kids life. As a parent, I raised these people that I can’t live without to live without me. I did my job and created functioning members of society. I should be proud of myself, but all I feel is heartache. I just want my babies back.
The other day I was talking to my son and he said he is the happiest he has been in a long time. The mom in me was so happy for him. I was so ecstatic that he found something in his life that brings him so much joy. But the other side of was so sad. This part of me wants him to need me and run back so I can take care of him. But he’s thriving without me. He doesn’t need me the way he used to and it’s so hard for me to get over.
It’s been two years now since my last left the nest. The first year was utter hell. I cried almost every single day. The emotional pain was unbearable. It was like my heart being ripped out of my chest, over and over. Slowly though, I started making a life for myself as an empty nester, but nothing has brought me the same joy and satisfaction that I felt being a parent of littles. I still feel hollow. I’ve moved to the Oregon Coast and go on road trips up and down the coast. I see the most amazing sites. But all I want is to share it with my kids. I see families with little children and ache for those moments back. Back when everything felt right with the world and I had a sense of peace and purpose. Now I look to my future and I don’t see anything worth while. I’m just on a downhill trajectory to death.
I know that this is a normal part of life and that I will eventually heal and have peace. It’s just like any major life transition. You live, grow and learn to move on. I often think about what my mom went through. If I could, I would apologize to her for the pain she felt for the unanswered calls and texts. I understand the copious amount of texts she sent me, now. I just blew them off, and thought I’d answer eventually. To her, however, she was just reaching out for just one bit of connection. She just wanted to feel close to the child she created in her womb. She just wanted to feel part of ours lives again. I get it now.
If you like what you just read and would like to see more, click the button below and buy me a coffee!