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Saying Goodbye to Being a Parent of One

I never thought I would be sad to welcome our second child.

I used to think I would have only one child. Scratch that. I used to think we’d never have any children. I used to think I’d be a teacher forever and that was good enough. And here I am a mom of a toddler boy with our second, a girl, due in a few weeks.

And I can’t imagine life any other way.


Seriously, I cannot fathom my life without our little family. I never thought it would be possible for me to love someone so much as I love my son and our future daughter. I love my husband and we choose each other every day, but it’s a different bond God creates.

The bond I have with my son is a different world.

That face in the morning when I get him from his room. The immediate energy bursting through as he is jumping on his bed at the crack of dawn. The exuberance when running across the kitchen to tackle one of the dogs. He is big emotions and they captivate me every single day.


And in those quiet moments when we watch Charlotte’s Web for the bazillionth time, and he lets me hold his hand, I can’t help but soak it in. I can’t help but feel a swelling sense of privilege to be his mother.

Sometimes I think God created the seasons of parenthood as a means for us to grasp a tiny bit of what His love is like for us.

I never understood what other parents meant when they said it’s a privilege to raise children.

Until now.

And as I commit these special and chaotic moments to memory, I am washed over with a bittersweet twinge in my heart. The kicking in my swelling womb reminds me that our world is about to change even more.

The afternoons of a quiet snack and movie with mom, with just the two of us, will be three.

I think of the specialness that comes with the first child. The firsts for everything.

I remember those long nights when I thought I might go insane from lack of sleep. I remember crying with him as I held him close in my arms because I didn’t know what to do for him. I remember the explosive poops on the changing table. I remember the first laugh. The first roll. The first crawl. The first five hours of straight sleep.

All those firsts that made me feel like a light was shining through me as joy burst from my heart. We had done it. We survived.

My son, these first two years with you have been a privilege. The joy and the challenges that came from taking care of you brought me closer to Christ and are forever etched in my heart.


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4 replies
  1. Lauren C. Moye
    Lauren C. Moye says:

    This is so bittersweet! I’m sure that one day I’ll be able to relate to this better. I don’t regret the time spent with my husband pre-children, and I know I won’t regret the time I spent with my daughter as an only either.

  2. Ali Chovanec
    Ali Chovanec says:

    As a mother of four, I remember having the same thoughts when I had my second. My oldest was 4 1/2 when my second child was born. We desperately wanted to grow our family and we’re so excited about our second child. Then the day we came home with her I had this moment of panic. I questioned whether I could really love two children as much as I loved my first. I didn’t want him to feel even a tad bit less love and attention. Soon after I was overcome with a great peace about loving both children to the fullest. My oldest always adored his baby sister. She in turn adored her big brother. We quickly realized how the beauty of siblings greatly multiplied the joy in our family! Two years later we welcomed our third child and three years after that we welcomed our fourth. It is such a joy to watch them grow and love each other! I truly believe that if you can (some people do not have an option), giving your child a sibling is the greatest gift you can possibly give your child.


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