There was a moment when I was at the hospital in labor with my oldest child, my son Owen, getting ready to give birth. After being pregnant for nine months plus change, and then being in labor for over 48 hours, I was taken aback when the doctor said to me, “It’s time to push.”
Wait. Wait.
I had to push the baby? Out of my body?
Wait.
I wasn’t ready. It was as if it dawned on me in that moment that I was having a baby, and that baby was being pushed out of my body. It became real in that moment. (I know, it’s strange even to admit.) But, suddenly … I wasn’t ready.
I’m not sure why, after all that time of trying to get pregnant (three years); the many months of pregnancy; and then experiencing a long labor, I was surprised.
Probably I was scared. Probably of the unknown. Probably because what I knew to be true in theory was suddenly becoming reality.
Which is probably why I’m having that feeling again.
18 Years Later…
My son is now an 18-year-old adult, in the last stretches of his senior year of high school, and getting ready to go to college in the fall. It’s starting to feel like… I’m not ready.
I have to confess: when my kids were very little and parenthood felt all encompassing and intense and relentless, I would sometimes allow myself to secretly think, “What will it be like when they go off to college? I’ll finally have space! I’ll finally have time to do things on my own without guilt or without making bargains and deals with my husband on our parenting responsibilities. I won’t constantly feel the pull of motherhood. I’ll be me again.”
Now that those young parenting days are over, I don’t feel like that anymore. Because somewhere along the way, my kids grew up and didn’t need me to orchestrate baths and bed times, or every meal or play date. I found that space along the way because they started creating their own space.
And now all I want to do is … to be with them. I like them so much.
Still…
Life goes on, and my son will be going to college in the fall. I know that it’s happening, just like when I was pregnant. Of course. I’ve been preparing for this for 18 years. Our kids leave us to explore life on their own. This is evolution.
Yet I caught myself walking around my house the other day repeating, “You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay you’re okay you’re okay.”
We are in May and my son has officially committed to his college. Theory is morphing into reality. I’m anticipating the change that’ll come to my day-to-day life when I won’t see his sweet face every day, or hear him say, “Let’s hug!” I feel tender that this particular cycle of our lives with him is coming to a close.
I also feel so much joy in seeing how happy and excited he is, as he prepares for his what’s next. It feels like limitless possibilities on his path ahead. There is so much excitement here and as a parent, I revel in witnessing his growth.
There is growth here for me, too. Slowly, quickly, my role is changing.
Before I know it, he’ll be leaving.
And it’ll be time for me to push again.
So so tender and bittersweet and beautifully expressed. 🥹💘🪷