12 months ago I entered hospital knowing within the next few days I was going to become a mummy again for the last time. I knew I was going to meet my little girl. But I also knew I could be looking at another long induction, I knew there were risks, I knew so much, but I also knew nothing. I knew nothing of this little girl that had been growing inside me for 38 weeks. I had struggled to bond with her during pregnancy as i’d felt minimal movement all the way through. I had hated the pregnancy. I wanted that part to be over. But I was also excited. I was excited to meet this little person.
In the end, she decided that she was going to make a quick arrival into the world. So quick the midwife didn’t have time to make any notes or observations! My daughter’s birth set the pace of the last 12 months.
Nicknamed “small but mighty” she fought every battle she came up against in those early weeks and months, and let the world know she was a fighter. She has ruled the roost at home and made it very clear who is the boss to her brothers!
The year has been one full of bittersweet moments for me. I have adored every moment as she has grown and developed from a tiny tiny baby, to a dinky toddler (and I can call her that as she’s now walking!) But i’ve also had this sadness knowing that I won’t have another baby going through these milestones again. I’ve been battling with this, as it seems so selfish. I know there are so many out there who would love just one child of their own, and I have 3. But I also know I had a desire to have 3. I know how much I love being a mum and how at times I feel I miss out on things because I am a working mum.
This year I have carried guilt at feeling like I’m wishing days away while I was looking forward to returning to work. Then feeling guilty for being at work. I’ve had days when I just want those moments to keep going and never stop. I’ve tried to capture them in words, pictures and in my heart. The time seems like it has slipped past without me noticing.
In these 12 months I’ve also become the parent of an adult! And now when I look back I feel that there are many moments of my son’s life I have missed. I feel like there are memories I am already forgetting. It’s reminded me how time with my children is so precious whatever stage they are at. I want to value and hold each second and cherish it. But I also want all my children to reach their potential at every stage of their lives and fly high in whatever way that is.
Parenting 3 is something I resolutely vowed I would never do, but actually I think it’s working ok. I’m not always getting it right, and I am always feeling mum guilt over one or other of my children. People ask is 3 easier than 2, harder than 2? Honestly…..3 is different to 2. Some days it is easier, some days it is harder. But every day is a memory I hold on to.
This week marks another key point in my parenting journey. My maternity leave is coming to an end. I’m really not sure how i feel about it. Mixed emotions i think.
I adore my job. I’ve said this many times,and I’ll keep saying it. I love my job, the charity I work for, the work we do. It’s also what makes a huge difference to my mental health. But on the flip side,this means my daughter is growing older. She’s going to be going to a child minder. She’s now closer to a year than to birth. She’s been growing in the big wide world for almost as long as she was growing inside me.
I have loved my 9 months of being mummy and mum. I’ve loved watching my children grow. Watching my teenager flourish in his first year at college. Watching my toddler gain more independence. Watching my baby grow and learn.
Knowing i will not do this parenting journey again has made me even more aware of every milestone. Each new thing. Each change in appearance. Each ounce of weight gained. Every smile, every tear. I hate the thought of missing anything,but also know i need to step out of this safe bubble.
But this realisation has also been a bit overwhelming. It hit me hard, especially as it coincides with returning from a fabulous holiday this week, and a big change in weather. I’m trying to make sure I stop and refocus,but in reality at times that’s hard. So for now I’m focusing on things I can manage and control. Deep breaths and move a step forward.
One of the things I am really struggling with at the moment is every time someone tells me that my little girl is growing up. I know that she will be my last baby, and so in someways I want to make all of this time last as long as possible.
In 2 days time she will be 7 months old. That is more than half of her first year gone, and I feel at times like I have missed so much of the first few months. I am constantly trying to capture in my mind and my heart each moment, as I know I can never have them again. While I am celebrating her moving on in her development, part of me keeps feeling ‘Not yet’! Part of me isn’t ready yet for her to start being mobile, becoming more independent, needing me less.
And I know that some of this is a long long way off.
My toddler still needs me daily. My teenager needs me – but not as much as it feels like I need him. And my daughter needs me. I know she does. But I also know that she doesn’t always miss me like I miss her. I know that none of my children do.
My husband and I joke about my behaviour when I am apart from my teenage son for any period of time. I feel like I have lost an arm or a leg. I find it really hard. I struggle with letting go, as I can still remember holding him in my arms nearly 18 years ago, and realising that this small person was suddenly totally dependent on me.
I struggle with how willingly my toddler runs off to his childminder – and only because she is so amazing at what she does, and he absolutely adores going. But I struggle because it is a time in his week when I am not needed.
At the moment I am struggling with the idea of returning to work. I love my job. I have really enjoyed my Keeping In Touch days. I adored the day I had back in the office a couple of weeks ago. I love my colleagues. I love what we do. But I am struggling with the idea of not being there for my daughter all day every day. It’s irrational, I know. I know she will be having an amazing time with our wonderful friend and childminder. I know I can touch base whenever I need to. But I am struggling.
What I have realised is that I am human, I am normal. I am not superwoman. I am allowed to feel like this. Loving my children is the hardest but the easiest thing to do, and each stage require me to let go a little bit more.
Today I have loved seeing posts on social media from family and friends as the big September return to school starts. 4 years ago today I shared the post of my eldest as he started secondary school. But I’ve also found the start of this week emotional. Today I labelled up his school uniform for the last time. We went out and bought the stationery to cover a mass of subjects for the last time.
Tomorrow my son starts his last year of secondary school. He’s starting this year taller than me! He’s starting as a Senior Prefect. He’s only got just over 2 terms of school left. Next month we are going to look round his potential sixth form college. We’re talking about choices that will have an even bigger impact on his future.
I know he’s growing up, and enabling him to become the independent young man he has become I see as one of my greatest roles in life. He’s an amazing son, friend, big brother, leader, discipler. But he’s also in many ways still my baby. He’s the baby I held in my arms seconds after he was born. He’s the boy I’ve picked the pieces up of after accidents, the boy I’ve cuddled on the tough days and celebrated with on the good days.
I’m sending him out to school tomorrow confident that however hard the next few months are, he will certainly give it his all, and do it with us and God on his side. So yes I’m going through some “lasts” but we are also going towards the next season of “firsts” and I am excited for him and what his future holds.