It’s no secret that I have had a difficult time dealing with letting go of my 4-year-olds. Sending them to pre-k was tough for me. I know that makes very little sense to some of you. I get that it’s kind of odd that I wanted to hold on so tightly.
But here’s the thing. For years…YEARS…my almost sole focus was on getting pregnant. I prayed ’til my knees were sore. I read every book, every article, every website I could find that offered hope or advice or both. We tried every fertility drug, every treatment, every surgery. We moved 500+ miles to be closer to the best possible medical care. Seriously. We took a combined pay cut of about $70K and moved to a new state…where we knew no one…just to be near the specialists who could probably better ensure a positive outcome to a future pregnancy. BEFORE we even knew if IVF#3 had worked.
Then I became pregnant with the peapod squad. We found out there were three babies in there ON MOVING DAY. I had been previously unable to carry ONE baby successfully, so my new focus was on staying pregnant. Again, I researched. I prayed. I consulted with specialists, nutritionists, other triplet moms. I spent weeks on bedrest at home and then nearly 2 months on bedrest in the hospital…again with the sole focus on bringing these babies into the world safely.
Then I gave birth to three amazing miracles. My new focus? Caring for them. All day. Every day. And I did just that for the next four+ years. Then…in the blink of an eye…I was expected to spend my days without them. And the silence that ensued was downright deafening at first.
My focus?
I had none. I’m not trying to sound melodramatic, but I honestly felt like I had no focus every day. Sure I have things to do. But a real focus?
It has now occurred to me (thanks to a bit of nudging from a friend, too) that my focus can now be on me. And I’m comforted in knowing that this does not make me selfish. It doesn’t make me a bad mommy. I can savor the moment each morning when, after dropping the kids off at preschool, I come home to a quiet house that smells like the cozy combination of coffee and pumpkin spice potpourri. I can spend some time meditating, some time exercising, some time reading, some time writing.
I’ll eventually go back to work outside of my home. But this year? I’m getting reacquainted with me…not me, the mommy, but me. Just me.
And you know what else I’m discovering? I enjoy my kids more. When I go pick them up each afternoon, I’ve already gotten other things accomplished around the house. My errands are run. My work has been done. I don’t have to juggle. I can just love on my babies, listen to the details of their day, have dinner as a family, be fully present during story time, relish those goodnight kisses. And I have the opportunity to spend quality time with hubby once they go to bed, because I’m not running around trying to catch up on everything. I’m going to start focusing on that more now.
So, yes, there were tears shed. This transition was difficult. But I’m finding new joys every day. Like right now. I’m going to have another cup of coffee, spend some time on the Bible Study I’m teaching, send notes to some folks, begin an organization project in my office, go grocery shopping alone, pick up my (hopefully) smiling little ones, greet hubby…
It’s a good day.
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