“Don’t blink,” they say. “You’ll miss it.”

Don’t blink … when the time with our foster son was drawing to a close.

Don’t blink … during my last pregnancy, one miraculous day to the next.

Don’t blink … when my newborn baby mewed in her tiny voice and grasped my finger with her tiny hands.

Don’t blink … when that tiny baby began crawling, then began walking, then talking, and turned one, two, and now, three.

Don’t blink … or I’ll miss my oldest in her last year of elementary school, a girl who has lost all little-kid-ness about her and is all preteen now.

Don’t blink … because I remember when my oldest was my middle’s age, and oh I love this age. Can my middle just stay here, too? Maybe forever?

Don’t blink … when they say the cutest things or do the orneriest things … I’m sure to miss it all.

I have spent years trying so hard not to blink, not to miss. To hold on to every stage while watching the upcoming stages approach like a freight train, helpless to get them to slow down.

Just slow down.

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Don’t blink

But I find myself blinking, no matter how often I tell myself not to.

On the days that are just so jam-packed busy, I barely feel like I’ve seen my kids at all.

The days that their not-so-lovely behavior ruled and all I want to do is to close my eyes, and yes, miss it.

Then there are the days where I held on longer, hugged more, told them I love them, spent that extra five minutes at bedtime with snuggles, napped with them instead of getting things done …

And despite of my every effort to hold onto the moment, time passed anyway.

How helpful is it, I wonder, to warn me that if life happens to go along, just as it always has and always will, I will miss it all?

A mother’s love is not powerful enough to slow time down.

A mother’s distraction (which is often necessary) is not strong enough to speed up time.

Time passes, and as long as life will give them the chance, babies grow. This truth remains no matter how much I care, how much I pay attention, how much I try to suspend my duties in favor of sentimentality.

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Steady, steady, steady on.

I do not like this truth, not one little bit.

There are seasons I want to pass quicker, and seasons I hoped would never pass. Seasons I loved so much I pried my eyes open, even when they were weary and exhausted and just needed a break, just so I could make sure I wouldn’t miss it.

But there is also this truth:

Time has passed … and I haven’t missed it.

I was there. My children were there.

I have tucked away photos, momentos and memories, all proof that we were in the moment. That we, in fact, did not miss it at all.

Will I long for those stages again? Yes. Every day.

Every day I wish I could live again the the very best memories of their childhood.

What I wouldn’t do to double my youngest’s time as a newborn. Or my oldest’s as a 5-year-old. Or my middle right where she is now. Or my son, so he was here and I wouldn’t have to say good-bye.

Oh yes, I long to love these sweet moments again and again.

But.

I have not missed them.

I may not like that time will always pass. I may wish that time slowed down. I may hate that children cannot stay children.

But I let go of the guilt that maybe I’m not trying hard enough, slowing down enough, or holding on enough.

I release the expectation that I alone can do what no mother has done before me and no mother after me.

Instead I join the ranks of women who are simply doing their best to stay present, stay attentive, and love their kids, right where they’re at.

I will blink when my eyes are weary. Because that is how God designed me to work.

And as a mother … I blink.

I rest when I need to. I close my eyes for a short time to my kids so I can take care of my needs. I don’t attend everything, I sometimes rush dinner or bedtime, and I take the space I need to focus on other parts of my life, other parts of my purpose.

So yes, I’ll blink.

But I did not miss it. I did not miss the memories that matter.

And neither have you.

PS. I understand that many mothers do not have the privilege of watching their children grow. If you are a mother missing your child on earth, join us for support at Brave Mamas.

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The post I can’t help but wonder … “Did I miss it? appeared first on The Lewis Note.