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Growing up, I often heard a silly joke from adults about breaking a plate on the table and sending their kids off at 18. My parents and their friends would chuckle heartily at this at every dinner party. Even though they repeated it throughout my childhood, it never seemed funny to me. I would glance at my siblings, who didn’t seem bothered by the idea of being cast out.
Of course, it was just a joke; my parents never actually kicked us out at 18. In fact, I was the only one of my four siblings who left home voluntarily after high school and never returned.
When I welcomed my first child, the thought of him eventually leaving home felt different. I was determined to never let him feel like I was counting down the days until he left. As I gazed at him in his clear bassinet beside my hospital bed, all I could think was about the day he would leave. I had longed for him so deeply that now, with him in my arms, I was terrified of losing him.
Over the years, I’ve reassured myself that I have plenty of time with my children. But now, as my firstborn prepares to move out, I find myself overwhelmed with emotion.
I may not love the clutter of his messy room, or the ice cream container he left on the counter last night, or the old tires he’s promised to sell on Facebook (which have now been here for a month). There have been days when managing three teenagers feels like too much, with their endless needs, school assignments, and the clutter they leave behind.
Yet, I’m not excited about them leaving. The thought of waking up on weekends without them or hoping they’ll come home for the holidays fills me with dread. Just last week, I saw a post on social media featuring empty nesters celebrating their newfound freedom, which triggered a wave of sadness in me. I don’t fault those parents for celebrating; they’ve done a fantastic job raising their kids who are now independent. But I can’t shake the feeling of impending loss.
I wonder if there’s something wrong with me for feeling sad while it seems others can’t wait for their kids to leave home. I’m not ready to celebrate. My son is graduating soon, and I keep telling myself I should push aside my feelings about this next chapter because it’s not about me. It’s about him becoming a capable adult, ready to take on the world.
I will profoundly miss my kids when they go. I always wanted all three of them, and now that time feels like it’s slipping through my fingers. For the past 18 years, my life has revolved around my children. Who will I be when they’re gone?
No one truly prepares you for motherhood, especially the teenage years. So how do we cope with this sudden shift from a lively home to one filled with quietness? I’m not looking forward to the empty nest, and I know I won’t celebrate when my children are all grown up. The thought of fewer chores doesn’t bring me solace either.
This is for all the parents who share my feelings about the approaching empty nest. You’re not alone in your sadness; I assure you that many others feel the same way.
As a side note, if you’re interested in exploring more about fertility and home insemination, check out this blog post here. For those seeking resources on artificial insemination, Make a Mom offers an excellent kit. Additionally, for week-by-week guidance on pregnancy, March of Dimes is an invaluable resource.