Motherhood is a slow release.
No sooner had I delivered our firstborn — after months of birthing classes and baby showers and nursery decorating — than the release began.
I loved the newborn stage. I loved being home on maternity leave and playing all things mom for the first time.
But two months in and our ruddy newborn, who only ate and slept, began to fill out to a chubby baby boy with milky white rolls and coos and long mornings of play.
“Oh I love this stage,” I thought, hoping time would linger right here.
But the slow release continued.
Toddlerhood moved into full-on childhood. Siblings were added to the mix, we moved houses and jobs and, before we ever imagined, girls were calling to talk to our just-turned-teen boy.
I have loved every stage and I’ve wanted it to stay just like it was. But, without permission, time moved on and lo and behold — I discovered that I loved the next stage as well.
Release to the next stage is right and good and healthy.
Rather than mourn what was we get to fall in love with what is.
Please join me as I guest post over at Joying in the Journey with Christy Mobley to read the rest.