By: Alex Taylor
Updated: September 10, 2019
Originally Published: December 6, 2015
Pregnancy lasted a total of ten long months for me—ten months filled with unrelenting nausea, sleepless nights, and an overwhelming worry about my capabilities as a mother. This emotional burden felt far heavier than the thirty pounds I gained during that time.
In the early days of motherhood, I averaged just four hours of sleep each night. The initial phase of adjusting to sleep deprivation felt endless, and those fragmented hours of rest weighed heavily on my ability to stay awake and engaged during the day while my newborn rested peacefully on my shoulder.
During those chaotic mornings, I often found myself thirty minutes late, no matter how well-planned I thought my day was. A forgotten snack, a diaper change, a misplaced shoe, or a toddler tantrum could derail even the best intentions. The constant rush and late arrivals left me questioning if I would ever regain my punctuality.
On my son’s first day of preschool, I stood by the classroom window for twenty minutes, watching as tears streamed down his face. Although I knew he was in good hands, the heartbreak of his confusion about my departure and uncertainty about my return weighed heavily on my heart.
Now, with both my boys in school, my house sits empty for eight hours daily. This absence of laughter, cries of frustration, and the sounds of bustling toys feels more like an emotional burden than a newfound freedom. I long for the days filled with puzzles on the floor and Cheerios scattered underfoot.
Nine is the number of years my sweet son has been a part of my life—a precious time that now feels like a countdown, as I have only nine more years before he leaves home.
In the whirlwind of early parenthood, it often feels as if you are struggling to push a massive boulder uphill, with time, fatigue, and confusion pushing you back down. Then, suddenly, you find yourself at the peak—reflecting on the days filled with sticky hugs, toddler mispronunciations, and little hands clutching your clothing. Those moments, which once felt like burdens, transform into cherished memories that pass in the blink of an eye.
To all you new parents out there: the hours and minutes that seem to stretch on forever will eventually fade. I understand the weight of these moments, but I urge you not to wish them away. Before you know it, you will find yourself at the summit.
Last night, my son asked me to snuggle with him for just five more minutes. I could have easily declined, citing dinner preparations or laundry, but instead, I chose to say yes—always yes. When I’m curled up under his blanket, time feels weightless.
As we lay there in the dim light, he whispered, “I don’t want to be nine. I don’t want to grow up.” In that moment, I realized that just as I stand at the top of the hill, he too is caught between the innocence of childhood and the pull of adolescence, eager to grow yet desperate to hold on to his little boy days. The weight of time bears down on him as it does on me.
So, I hugged him tighter and loved him deeper. In that moment, there was no rush to grow up. The world remained full of wonder, magic, and innocence. Together, we stood at the peak, gazing down the slope, reluctant to begin the descent.
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Summary
This article reflects on the fleeting moments of parenthood, emphasizing the importance of cherishing each stage of a child’s growth. It highlights the emotional weight of time on both parents and children, encouraging parents to embrace the present without wishing it away.
Keyphrase
Time with my child
Tags
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