Ivana Poku I started feeling it some time ago.
That heavy feeling in my chest when I realised my children were growing up too fast.
It didn’t hit all at once.
It showed up in quiet little moments.
Like when I kissed them goodnight and stroked their heads as they were falling asleep, I would feel tearful and almost panicky at the thought that they would grow up one day. That we would lose this. That they wouldn’t ask him to do bedtime with them. That they wouldn’t need me as much anymore. That we wouldn’t do cuddles and kisses a million times a day.
One day I was helping them get dressed.
The next, they were telling me what buttons to press on the remote.
When I was in that moment, I would panic at that thought. I mean it.
It felt like someone was ripping my heart out.
I couldn’t make my peace with the fact this would be gone soon.
Sure, on a logical level, I knew that it was normal for them to grow up.
That it’s a privilege to watch your children growing up.
That our relationship might get even better then.
That we will do things we couldn’t do now.
My head knew all this.
But my heart didn’t feel it.
That’s why it didn’t help to remind myself of all this.
Some days, I would be absolutely fine, but some days I would be teary.
I didn’t want to be one of those obsessed mothers who can’t let go of their children when they are grown up (my mother-in-law was that, so I know first-hand how much damage it can cause).
But at times, I couldn’t help it.
Then one day, when I had a really hard day, I wrote a letter to the future me, reminding myself of all the things that are hard NOW, the things I will forget over time.
In the letter, I reminded myself of the struggle I am going through and to enjoy them grown up, and also mentioned all the reasons why them being older is better.
This was truly liberating, and I suggest you do the same (you can apply it to many different things as well).
But the real transformation and shift in my mindset came one day, out of the blue, when I realised I am doing this about me.
When in fact, it’s about them.
I realised I don’t own my children, and how selfish I am when I don’t want them to grow up.
Remember how excited we were to grow up as kids?
It was a great mixture of expectations, the unknown, hopes and dreams.
It’s a beautiful stage we as parents are supposed to celebrate and enjoy.
The moment I shifted my focus to them rather than me, a whole new world opened up.
I decided then that instead of feeling sad about what isn’t anymore, I would enjoy and celebrate what is.
Every stage of their journey. Our journey.
Because every stage comes with its own beauty. Yes, challenges too, but also beauty and joy.
This is what we often miss.
We focus too much on the good things from the past, that we miss the good things right in front of us.
I also feel excited about watching them grow. Not just physically, but to witness them gathering experiences, shaping opinions, developing friendships, dealing with challenges, creating, loving, making a difference.
There’s SO MUCH to look forward to!
We just need to be willing to open our eyes to it.
One of my all-time favourite quotes says, “Don’t cry that the sun goes down, because the tears won’t let you see the stars.”
It is pretty much what this is. The good is not going away. There’s just new good. Different good.
It’s a huge privilege to see the good changing and reshaping over time.
If it stayed static, THAT would be sad.
So to sum it up, growing up is beautiful.
It’s like watching a rose grow into its full beauty.
You wouldn’t feel sad if the rose blossomed, would you?
So why be sad when our kids blossom?
It’s a miracle. A magic of life.
And I feel incredibly privileged to witness it.
And here’s the beautiful thing I’ve realised: the more I lean into the present, the more memories we make.
The more I stop gripping tightly onto what was, the more space I create for what is becoming.
Of course, I still feel that ache sometimes.
It’s normal. It’s human.
But it doesn’t drag me down anymore.
I remind myself that we’re growing together.
Motherhood is a constant letting go and becoming at the same time.
I know I won’t be the centre of their universe forever.
But I don’t even want to be.
Not in the same way, anyway.
Because I know I will always be their mum – no one will ever replace that.
I’ll be their safe place and their anchor. The one they come back to when life gets noisy or hard.
Isn’t that amazing?
I know that they won’t ever love me less.
The love will simply expand, transform and be more rooted over time.
So if you’re reading this and you’re in that messy, teary place, feeling like your babies are slipping through your fingers, just remind yourself: this isn’t the end. It’s just the beginning.
Their growth isn’t a loss. It’s a blooming.
You don’t lose them – you grow with them.
So today, I choose to cherish the bedtime hugs and kisses.
But I also choose to look forward to the big conversations, the car rides filled with their music, the laughter over shared jokes they wouldn’t understand now, the wisdom they’ll share, the adventures we haven’t even imagined yet.
I choose to honour the past and feel excited about the future.
Because what’s ahead is full of magic.
And I’ll be right here for all of it.
Present. Soft. Steady.
Unbreakable.
