The Grief No One Talks About in Motherhood

Have you ever stumbled upon an old photo of your child and felt a sudden ache in your heart? A bittersweet longing for a moment that once felt endless but has now slipped away?

Yesterday, while dusting my bookshelf, I found a picture of my daughters—now 11 and 8—back when they were adorable squishy-cheeked toddlers. The sight of their tiny faces stopped me in my tracks. My heart clenched, my throat tightened, and before I knew it, tears welled in my eyes.

I wanted, just for a moment, to scoop them up, kiss those chubby cheeks, and relive the simple joys of that time.

It is a strange kind of heartache, almost like mourning someone who is still here but will never be that version of themselves (little) again. I guess you could call it grief and it often catches me off guard.

In that moment I thought about a statement older moms used to tell me, "You're going to miss this" they'd say. It used to bother me because I just couldn't wrap my head around it.

Miss the sleepless nights? The tantrums? The endless diaper changes, messy faces, and toy-strewn living room? The way my house looked like a tornado had hit it every single day. It felt impossible to believe. I often thought about how nice it would be once my kids were grown out of diapers, car seats and high chairs.

I did have moments, however, when I wanted to freeze time and soak up my babies. Almost like I could feel just how fleeting those days were even though they felt like they lasted forever. And I think in those moments I had glimpse of what those older moms were trying to say.

Now that my kids have grown, I fully understand what they were trying to say. They weren't saying I'd miss the hard things. They were saying that one day I would look back at this time of life with such fondness that my heart would ache to hold my babies again.

I'd remember the way their little chubby hands would sandwich my face and pull it to theirs to make sure I was paying attention to them. The big belly laughs that came from something as simple as a peekaboo. The weight of their little bodies snuggled against mine as they drifted off to sleep. The pure joy they found in the smallest and simplest things.

I think those good intentioned older moms were also telling me that I would miss the simplicity of it all (even though at the time it felt anything BUT simple). I didn't realize it then but would soon find out that while I love to watch my kids grow, there is a new kind of hard that comes with those older kids. The worries are bigger, the problems heavier, and the sleep is still no where to be had.

So, if you are a young mom, and you feel that familiar twinge of frustration when someone tells you, "You're going to miss this," I get it. It can feel like pressure to enjoy every single moment, which is impossible when you're in the thick of it all.

The truth is, you probably won’t recognize just how good some of these moments are until you’re looking back—until you’ve had a full night’s sleep, until the physical exhaustion has worn off, until you realize just how fleeting it all was.

And that’s okay. You don’t have to cherish every second to someday look back and miss the little things. The tiny hands, the sleepy snuggles, the giggles that filled your home. But just as you miss the babies they once were, you will love the incredible people they are becoming.

Motherhood is complex, always shifting, always stretching us in new ways. And in every stage, there is something to love, something to miss, and something to hold onto.