Someone recently mentioned that when we sold our old farmhouse and moved to the home we’ve been in for just over two years now, that it felt like the end of an era. Yes, I told her, it did. But not because we left our first house behind, one that we poured so much of ourselves into for fifteen years. I felt that I left the years of young motherhood there, never to return. We grew a family in that little house, the years punctuated by new babies and sleepless nights. Shortly after Mabel’s birth I started struggling with my health and was soon after diagnosed with autoimmune disease. I’ve spent the two years since trying to get healthy, with some success.
Early last summer I had two positive pregnancy tests over a period of a few days but didn’t believe they were accurate. I showed a friend and she laughed at me. “Ginny those aren’t even “squinters.” Definitely positive.” I took a third, the type of test that says the word, “pregnant,” leaving little room for doubt. Before I could wrap my mind around pregnancy at forty, at a time when I didn’t feel healthy enough, I miscarried. Had the baby lived, it would have been due this month. I didn’t mention it here at the time because I didn’t know how to. My feelings were so mixed, so confusing. I was very sad, more so than I expected to be, but there was also relief. And how could I admit that? My feelings didn’t make sense to me, and I was not prepared to try to explain them. I still talk to that little baby, and I tell it that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I cried in fear rather than joy during the short time it was with me. I’m sorry that my body failed it. Truly, I am.
We didn’t plan on having a big family. We were very young and perhaps more than a little irresponsible when we got married. In fact, we didn’t even seriously discuss having children beforehand. Yet here I sit, having spent roughly eighteen years pregnant or nursing babies. I can’t imagine life any other way. Sometimes I long for another baby, for the rhythm I know so well, and I think of the one we lost last summer. At other times, I can’t imagine how I would manage. Stepping into the next season of life is hard. Harder still is not knowing if I am truly there yet. I just know that my baby will turn three in June and typically there would have been another little one with us by now. At the heart of this struggle is my faith, the faith that reminds me to trust rather than wonder and worry.
With Jonny still trying to find a new place in the working world, I contemplate whether I should be trying harder myself. After all, I’m not pregnant. I’m not even breastfeeding. Part of me is eager to learn more and to work more. Last week, I came very close to signing up for a two-week natural dye course with two experts in the field but decided against it. Two weeks is a long time away. While Jonny encouraged me to go if I wanted to, I couldn’t decide if I truly did want to. If it were only closer rather than a day’s drive away, if it were one week instead of two, if it weren’t so expensive,…if, if, if. There will be other opportunities and I think I will know when the time is right. For now, I’m studying books, and working with the knowledge I have. But mostly, I’m managing a very busy household and homeschooling. I’m driving kids to and from classes. I’m planning the next birthday party. I’m wondering if I could manage to sew a birthday dress by early March. I’m bemoaning the laundry while making dinner between piano lessons and catechism class.
This week we celebrated Keats’ sixteenth birthday. I took him to a concert the night before (piano and organ) and baked calzones for his birthday dinner. I remembered him at age two and marveled at him at sixteen. He was my smallest baby at birth weight-wise but also the baby who could stretch himself in ways that made me shout in pain. Had I known that he would be 6 feet, three inches tall sixteen years later, I would have thought, “Ah, that explains it.” Watching our children grow and become is certainly as sweet and exciting as those early moments of welcome.
In the midst of all the chaos of our days, my most frequent prayer lately is, “Jesus, please help me.” In quieter moments I ask for peace, for acceptance, for trust and surrender. This life is too noisy and unpredictable for me; it moves too quickly. But it’s what I’ve been given, and I am thankful. I know that I am where I am meant to be, even when I feel unsteady and unsure of what might happen next.
p.s. Well…I did not sit down to write what I did. I meant to tell you that we recently had a nice stretch of warm days, and I’m excited about spring. That I mixed up a wonderful indigo vat last week and got the darkest blues, and I may raffle off that shawl in the first photo soon for a personal cause. And also, I will hopefully be updating my shop on Friday with organic cotton gauze scarves and baby swaddles amongst other good things (including the stickers I meant to list last week). I’ll post here on Friday with a definite time, but I’m thinking mid-afternoon ET.
p.p.s. Thanks for listening. I know that really you’re reading. But to me, it feels like I’m talking and you are listening and I appreciate it.
Marilyn says
Sorry for your loss Ginny. Will keep you in my thoughts and prayers. Thank You for sharing this. Your children are beautiful. Wishing Keats a year of happiness,love and blessings.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEATS
Marilyn
Marion says
Thank You for sharing your feelings with us. Prayers for you. Love the photo of Beatrix reading with Mabel.
Wishing Keats A HAPPY BIRTHDAY
Marion
Joan says
Ginny I am sorry for your loss. you have a beautiful family.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEATS
Joan
Helen says
As one door closes, another opens, enjoy it while its here. 🙂
Kitchen fairy says
Can’t help but reach out to you today after reading your lovely but sad words. We are holding this last baby (now 3 years old) of ours extra close, since he was born after a loss and I’m pretty sure he’s our last one. Much love to you and your family during this time of transition, and wishing you peace for your mom heart. They’ll always be your babies, big or small.
Tonya says
Dear Ginny,
I love your heart, your faith, and your waiting to know… So sorry for the loss last summer. The hurt, hurts no matter how old we are or how many beautiful babies we’ve birthed. I just lost one last month and I am 49. You never know what God’s plan may be for you and your beautiful family.
Sending love.
Sarah says
What a beautifully written post and your words tugged at my heart strings today especially. It’s how I feel having our last baby almost 2 years ago. It’s comforting hearing your words. I agree with the lady above in the comments… please write a book. You write so naturally and it’s so easy to read. You are a wonderful lady ???
Lady Locust says
God bless you Ginny. You are doing awesome! Your heart is so full of love. Today is all we are given and that is enough. Just this day. Wishing you much happiness and joy~
Donna says
Thanks Ginny, for sharing your feelings, as you do that very well. What came to mind, is, maybe you should write books. You are gifted in how you write in this blog. You touch many topics that are hard to talk about, yet they are often helpful to others. You know how to be ‘real’ and factual. I honestly think writing is a huge gift you have. Words flow out of you. Perhaps you should submit articles to magazines to test this theory? But I think you have a goldmine in the typed word of life in our day and age. Plus I read all the comments and see how women relate to what you write. You bring out the good, and heart-felt compassion in your readers. Give it thought and prayer. See the gift. Sometimes we don’t realize our gifts until someone mentions an idea. Anyway, just a thought.
Kate says
I agree with this Donna!
Ginny- I am very sorry to hear of your loss. I’ve been following your blog for … gosh I don’t know. Since around the time you had Beatrix… and you are the only blog I follow now (as another said) because of the unique tone and gentleness here. I think you’d have a lot to offer to other women with a book- your approach (I know it is also led by your faith and although I am not religious I think anyone spiritual can relate to that aspect of another’s life)
I’d buy a book from you! You don’t pretend to ‘have it all together’ and your ponderances on life, motherhood, the universe and everything (to paraphrase ;-)) strike a chord and feel comforting and relatable to not a few readers here.
Anne says
We are listening, I promise.
Rachel Jepson Wolf says
I love you, Ginny. Sending hugs southward, toward you on the winds.
Claire says
Ginny, thank you for sharing your journey with us. So many can relate, it seems! I am 41, feeling that we need to be done with having babies (we have 5). In spite of our efforts to avoid it, we also got pregnant recently, and struggled with fear, but then very quickly after joy and peace. Just when the joy and peace part was settling in, I miscarried. Then grief. Then relief. I’m just trusting God’s plan and know that baby was loved and that the miscarriage was out of my control. From here, not sure where we go… Prayers for your continued health improvements and for peace in your motherhood journey, wherever it is headed.
Tamara H says
Ginny, I am so sorry for your loss, thank you for sharing your private and very painful thoughts. Motherhood is such a special gift and it last your entire life. I just turned 66 and have 4 grown daughters, things have changed but they always need Mom. Change is so hard, I am now thinking about retiring after going back to work after my girls were grown. I was terrified then and now terrified again. Thanks for reminding me that God does have a plan for us. Also, thanks for taking your limited time to write each week, I really look forward to it. Take care of yourself.
Sarah says
Ginny I think there are some of us who just have to accept that we will never get over the feeling of not being done…I know I have loved with all my heart (not saying it was easy AT ALL) the rhythm of my days with my kids at home-I too had babies for a long long time-first at 24, and then my last at 43, six living children, with 8 miscarriages a long the way. I am finding a new rhythm and it is not easy, I will admit. I have faith that Jesus will lead me to what he wants me to do next. Meanwhile I treasure my days. I had a terrible bout with breast cancer that knocked me into menopause and along with the hardship came a new spring-a very deep appreciation for all the good and bad times. It is a new beginning and the old way of life feels so far away-maybe that was the plan. Mourning a loss, but celebrating the new. Acceptance and gratitude, the only way forward.
Sara says
We are in a new phase as well. And because of that I haven’t been sure what I should do with myself. How do I focus on myself again or work? What’s that? So I found a camp nurse position for this coming summer. That way I can have my girls with me and still work. Feels like it might be the best of both worlds. Took a long time to get there though.
Kate says
I had my last two babies when I was 39 and 43. I was surprised at the last one (and fearful), but I am so glad he was given to us. I’m not a young-looking middle-aged woman (especially since I do not color my hair), so I was asked often if he was my grandchild. Many of his friends his age are the oldest in their families or have younger siblings, so he has a different experience than they do. He keeps me young, but thank goodness for generous young parents who provided more fun than I can.
That being said, when my husband asked if I missed being pregnant and having babies, I just raised my eyebrows and said, “Grandbabies are good” and left it at that.
thecrazysheeplady says
I read this on a sled dog blog this morning and I thought at the time how right she was…and not just for a dog run.
“And over time I have developed my own theory. I call it Jodi’s 80/20 rule – in any run 20% is going to suck for one reason or another, bad trail, too cold, windy, gear brakes, the list of things that can make mushing more difficult is long. But the way I see it, that 20% is the price you pay for the other 80%. The sublime beauty, the peace that comes with traveling in silence under the dancing aurora, the beauty of the vast wilderness you have the privilege of traveling, and the joy of being out on the trail with your dogs. All these things fill my heart with joy. So really the 20% that sucks becomes a small price to pay for the 80% that is amazing!
Jodi”
Jody Bailey https://www.yukonquest.com/news/armchair-musher-overflow-jumble-ice
Stefanie Semple says
So sorry for your loss and the emotional turmoil you’re experiencing.
Having lost two babies myself (27 and 25 years ago) I can tell you it gets easier but they are never forgotten.
Melisa says
Ginny,
This is so lovely. Thank you for your courage and vulnerability in sharing your heart. I don’t post often, but yours is one of the blogs I read regularly. I can relate to your feeling of your body ‘failing’ you. I have felt that with childbirth that has not gone the way I had hoped, and having an inadequate milk supply with my last 3 babies.
I am so very sorry for your loss. I have not experienced miscarriage myself, but I can imagine it is a difficult cross.
I also understand the conflicted feelings when seeing that ‘positive’ pregnancy test. I’m a 46 (47 next week) year old mom of 8, with a 3 year old nursling. I have gray hair, and have been asked if my littler ones are grandbabies! I have been pregnant and/or nursing for the past 20 years.
There’s something I read recently in one of Elizabeth Goudge’s Green Dolphin Street that I thought worth mentioning here, and it is this:
“To be sorry and glad together is to be perceptive to the richness of life.”
It gave me such comfort to read this, as I was not exactly over-the-moon happy to see those last couple positive pregnancy tests, though I know to the depths of my being that every single baby, no matter the circumstances, is a gift. They were challenging pregnancies (anxiety, gestational diabetes, feelings that I had to be more, do more because of all those kiddos…) But the joy (yes, along with the challenges) has increased. I couldn’t have it any other way. (And yes, I confess I live in fear of the next pregnancy, but, God willing, we will welcome any babies He sees fit to send our way…)
God bless you and yours,
Melisa
Kate says
Melisa, thank you for sharing that quote. I think I’ll calligraph and frame it.
Rain says
Thank you for sharing Melisa. I really appreciate that Goudge quote! I totally understand all that you shared. I found out I was expecting my 7th child when I was 46 and there was so much fear from the medical establishment about that pregnancy. The specialist found 5 “markers” during an ultrasound indicating that something was very wrong, but I continued to trust though I was very very scared. She was born 13 weeks early but perfect! She is just over a year now and it has been the hardest and most wondeful year of my life. Life really is a paradox.
Pamela says
Hi Melissa,
I love your quote as well and will keep it in my special place . Thanks for sharing it.
Rachel says
I’m sorry for your families loss. I lost a baby this summer. I was 14 weeks along and 44 years old. You described so perfectly how I feel. I long for that baby but, have had to apologise so many times for not being honored to carry him. My other 4 children were heartbroken to not have another sibling. It was only after his passing that I stopped thinking about what I wanted and how having another baby would affect me and truly saw the blessing God had for us. I can’t say that I would try to get pregnant again, I can say that I will try much harder to be at peace with my circumstance. Bless you and your beautiful family. Thank you for writing about this.
Lisa says
I love your posts – it’s like sitting down with a letter from a friend. I’m sorry for your loss – we miscarried several babies a few years ago and it’s changed my life forever.
I’ll be looking for the stickers! My oldest daughter collects stickers (on her old-fashioned suitcase!) and she turns 16 in a few weeks – I thought it’d be a good gift for such a milestone birthday….
Deborah says
I’m absolutely loving your pictures! What camera do you use?
As for your baby…I’m a 54 y.o. mother of 11 (gasp – yes I know where they come from). I’ve also had 4 miscarriages. My last baby was born when I was 45. She is so brilliant, the end of my baby-making era (I think?) and my partner in crafts. At 8-years-old she looks forward to the knitting group meetings on Friday night with us ol’ ladies. (Once she told me I’m not an old lady because I’m not a lady!)
My point in all this is our lives are full of “eras”. I’ve lived so many eras already I need to write them all down lest I forget more than I ever knew – okay, I’ve already done that, lol. We can’t be longing for the past era when we need to embrace where we are. Have courage ladies (and men) for the future awaits. His mercies are new every morning, His help is there when we ask.
And one more thing, it is typical for a woman to question her motherhood after losing a baby. But it is unproductive thought. It is Satan making us feel unworthy in some way. Even God said he made the blind and deaf for His glory. I have to chalk my losses up to another answer I’ll find in heaven instead of creating an environment for depression. I hope this helps.
Stephanie says
Reading this really blessed me this morning. Thank you
Barbara says
Ginny,
Thank you so much for sharing. I am so happy to listen. I am so sorry. Praying for you and your family. Thanks for the beautiful pictures to go along. Can not believe it has been 2 years since your move! Much love and many prayers….
Sarah says
Ginny I am so sorry to read of your loss last summer. It must have been so hard. Reading your post today, I just want to say that you have SO much on your plate- I only have 5 children and 4 of them teenage boys- I struggle so much to keep on top of the chaos, the washing, the cooking, the noise!!! I also feel like o should contribute more but feel so stressed with the home- and I do not strive for a clean tidy house! You have so much more to contend with- I can’t imagine you have even a minute to study or work. Wow. You are an inspiration. I just wanted to say to go easy and to not pressurise yourself to give more- you have so much already. Lots of love xxxx
Jere says
Ginny,
Oh how your post today took me back on a walk down memory lane. I also married young and promptly had five children under 5 years (twins were 4th and fifth) That was surely something I was unprepared for…and looking back I wonder how I got through it all. Now I am ninety two and would gladly repeat the experience. My husband was in the Navy for 27 years and it was moving and moving again. However one does survive. One day I told my Mother that I wished God would just look down and give me strength and help. Her answer was God never sends you more than you can handle. She was so right because here I am still here after loosing my husband of 66 years and also loosing two sons….more to handle. How marvelous you are handling what God knows you can do. Life passes so quickly…just enjoy each day. I do love your posts Jere
Kate says
Thanks for your comment -I hope I will be still reading this blog at the age of 92. It reminds me that this era of having babies and small children is not the Main Thing but a chapter of my life. Scary and a little thrilling to think of.
Stacy says
This so spoke to my heart. Thank you for sharing.
Taryn B says
I’m so sorry for your loss. I had my first miscarriage in December after four healthy daughters and as I am also 40, I wrestle with some feelings of relief as well. I pray to our dear St. Ember Marie (we guessed at her gender bc we already have girls). Being open to life is hard but beautiful and rich. My youngest is 2 next month and I wonder if we’ll have more and as I also have a chronic illness (Crohn’s disease since 2000), I wonder how it would be to be pregnant at my age and energy level. I confessed contributing to Ember’s death and my dear priest told me it was not my fault at all. Blessings to you all as you continue to look for work.
Emily says
Love you, Ginny! HUGS.
I know what you mean about your body failing you. It’s so hard, some days, to carry that.
Hugs and prayers.
Dawn Harris says
I love all your posts but this one is so heart-breakingly beautiful. In some ways, I wish I couldn’t relate to your experience. I had more miscarriages than I want to remember and a stillborn son before my precious two boys were born. Those are things you never think will happen to you. I think I honestly didn’t know they happened to other people, either. But, there is comfort and solidarity in knowing other women (too many) know the emotions you are sitting with. I struggled with becoming a parent for so long before it happened that it is hard to turn that off, so to speak. My boys sometimes say they wish they had a younger sibling, too, and it gives my heart a tug. I think my husband would have a heart attack, though. 🙂 We need to remember how these struggles affect the Daddys, too. All this is to say I am sending you a big ol’ virtual hug and a thank you for so selflessly sharing your stories with humility and grace. That can be hard to find anymore. Peace and Blessings to you and yours!
Wendy says
I’m so sorry for your loss, Ginny. Thank you for checking in with such a beautiful post.
Christy says
Oh Ginny, I’m so sorry for your loss.
Thank you for these beautiful words though, I feel this to some degree and wonder if it’s because I should have another baby, but at the same time I feel no real calling to another baby right now, and then I wonder if it won’t happen again and then I’m sad but also a bit happy about that, then a bit guilty about being a bit happy. And sometimes I think that all these emotions while they’re important, don’t tell the tale of our life. I don’t have to always be making sure my emotions are in perfect order in order to do the will of God. Anyway. Very rambling, but just sending lots of love!
Hannah says
Dear Christy, I just wanted to thank you for your words about not having to have our emotions in perfect order to do the will of God. Such a wise and helpful point – it made me stop and think over just how much time and energy I expend trying to do just that, and I don’t know if I’d ever really thought about it like that before. Thank you! X Hannah
LouAnne Wronski says
I’m listening, Ginny. Thanks for “talking”. Your life is an inspiration to me. Mostly your reverence for the gifts you have been given, including being entrusted with such wonderful children to raise in the admonition of the LORD.
Nahuatl Vargas says
Thanks for continue sharing, it does feels like we are talking, I send a hug, I admire your faith.
Rachel says
Hi Ginny, I rarely comment these days although after years of reading blogs, yours is the ONE that I still read every time you publish anything. I feel almost like we are friends, I have “known” you for so long! I am so sorry to hear about your loss. I listened to you talk about young motherhood when I too was a newish mom, before either of us had big families. I have inadvertently had babies around the same time as you have had yours, which felt almost like another thing we had to “talk” about. About the same time as you announced your pregnancy with Mabel, I discovered to my very confused emotions that I was pregnant with baby #7. I miscarried a very short time later, and was heartbroken that I wasn’t happier about him, when he was with me. I thought I was done having babies…my 6th child was my last, I thought! Within a very short time I discovered that I was pregnant again (FYI I found out that a woman’s fertility is often heightened immediately after a miscarriage!) We lost that baby at 6 weeks, and the next we miscarried at 7 weeks. I was devastated, I felt broken. I had no idea what to do. I prayed for peace, and healing, and help, because I didn’t even know what to pray for most of the time! 3 months after my 3rd miscarriage, I discovered that I was expecting again. I was so freaked out I didn’t even want to tell my husband. I knew it wouldn’t last. At 9 weeks I started spotting, and my heart broke. I called the doctor to admit I was pregnant yet again…and they wanted to do an ultrasound. The saw something I never expected to see again. A strong heartbeat! The spotting stopped and I had no more problems during the pregnancy. Baby August was born in 2017. And he is a joy every day. But he is also our last, as it was deemed medically necessary to put an end to my childbearing days. I was 42 when he was born, an “old” mom. It seems so strange to be moving beyond babyhood, now, as it has been my main focus for the past 21 years! Not sure why I wanted to tell you this, but I am sorry, I get it, I like listening to you, and there is so much joy to be found as they grow!(as you well know!) ~Rachel
Maggie says
This is a beautiful post that spoke to me. Thank you for it.
Antonia says
Many thanks for your post…
I’m older than you, but it has still taken me a while to realize I’m not a young mom and there is some grief with that. Fortunately, I’m still busy, but I can get apprehensive about the coming years. There seems to be no clear path or plan, but to just keep putting one foot in front of the other with the message loud clear to “trust.”
Debi Hassler says
I love your frequent prayer. That is all we need to say and what He longs to hear.
LouAnne Wronski says
Amen
Britta says
I am so sorry about your loss.
If you’re open to it, please pray through the words you wrote, that, “I’m sorry that my body failed it.” Because I am sure you know that there are many reasons for miscarriage, and only one of many of which is that your body ‘failed’. There’s a lot of emotion and beliefs about yourself packed into that little sentence.
Huge hugs and love to you in this season.
Catherine says
Memory eternal for your little one, who is interceding for you in heaven. I turn 40 in a few months, and I alternate between fervent prayers for one last baby and gratitude that we’re leaving the new baby days behind. Thank you for expressing so eloquently what it feels like to be in this “inbetween” stage.
daniela says
thank you for sharing so honestly. I really appreciate it, and am so with you in regards to not knowing how to explain or explain it away what i whish for or hope for or maybe not even know what for…
thank you and all the blessings you need and the Lord will shower you with.
-daniela
Lucy says
So much love to you.
Your words are so eloquent and you speak with so much truth and love.
I’m so sorry you’ve had a miscarriage. It’s totally understandable to have such mixed feelings and emotions about a new baby. Your feelings are valid and I hope you don’t feel guilt or anything negative about them.
You’re not alone in this, and everyone reading feels they’re not alone either, so thank you for sharing your heart and mind with us.
Xxx Lucy
Ruby says
I feel this, too. I’m 37 and trying to decide if it’s time to stop wondering—will we have another? Is this my last one? why do I feel this way?—I still don’t know. My youngest is just 3 and we’re still nursing so I feel really tethered to my “baby” even though he’s not really a baby at all anymore. Lately I have been telling myself to enjoy enjoy enjoy or at least experience experience experience —drink it all in—the here and now because this is probably the fleeting days of my own young motherhood. I’m trying to do so while also feeling that pull outward from my little home and family. I have had 3 losses over the years—(((Hugs))). All my love from Iowa to you and yours~~~~ and Happy 16 years to Keats!
Angie says
Thank you for sharing your heart. Sorry for your loss; prayers and hugs. Praying for your health, family, and a peace that passes all understanding.
Kristin says
Ginny –
Thank you so much for sharing your love and loss. I have four, my first three born almost exactly when your last three were born, and my fourth is nearly 5 months old. Between my second and third, I had a very short pregnancy and miscarriage — I bawled tears of fear and anger when I discovered my pregnancy, but quickly came around to joy. A couple of weeks later, I cried tears of grief when I miscarried. I call that baby “Joy” for the glimpse of joy I had while it was with me so briefly. (I also miscarried my very first pregnancy – I, too, talk to my little ones). It’s so hard to admit to mixed feelings about motherhood — I was angry and scared about my littlest one, and the pregnancy was AWFUL as is the aftermath — but my goodness he is just the most precious little gift. I *almost* forget how bad it was to be pregnant. 🙂
I rambled a bit here – but basically, thank you for sharing. I understand your mixed up feelings and I admire your mothering. It takes a tremendous gift of self, and your love for your family comes through so beautifully in your writing.
Blessings,
Kristin
Diana says
Oh Ginny, I am so sorry.
Heidi says
I feel like we are old friends as I’ve followed your motherhood journey for many years now. I’m 62 and still trying to find my way into my last stages. I know there is a plan but I am impatient and it is just so different from when I was a busy mom with littles at home. Sending lots of love your way Ginny and wishing only the best for you.
Jenn says
It is an honor to have a peek into your wonderful and beautiful life. Take heart, motherhood is both amazing and terrifying. Your feelings are understandable, and I know that I would feel the same if I were to find myself in your situation. I turn 40 in a few months. Your post is resonating with me today as I find myself facing the end of my own years of motherhood, as my daughter approaches high school age. I am asking “what’s next for me?” Thank you for your honesty and vulnerability. You’re in good company here. <3
Mary says
Oh Ginny, first I’m so very sorry for your loss. May that little one be interceding for his or her family here on earth.
I feel like I’m right behind you in this entering of a new era and all the strange, joyful, melancholic feelings it’s bringing. Thank you for sharing your heart.
Erin says
Thank you so much for sharing this Ginny. I too am at that stage-although my baby just turned 5, and I’ve struggled with my body wanting more and longing for the familiar rhythm of babies and nursing and feeling lost and unsure of what my life looks like now without babies/toddlers. I miss those days, but I also appreciate my sleep and free time and wonder if I shouldn’t be pursuing a career even though I’m swamped with music lessons and homeschooling my 5.
It’s a growing period I think and growth is always a bit painful/uncomfortable.
Thank you for sharing, and putting into words how I too feel.
Blessings to you
Erin