Parenting Comes in Phases

Loving Our Children Without Losing Ourselves Along the Way

I recently watched a video on Instagram where a daughter asked her mum and aunt a simple question:
“What was the best part of motherhood for you?”

I expected sentimental answers. Maybe newborn cuddles, family holidays, school achievements, or watching their children grow into adulthood.

Instead, both women laughed and said:
“When they all left home.”

At first, I will be honest, I did not like the response.

It felt harsh.
Almost dismissive.
As though motherhood was something they had simply endured until freedom finally arrived.

But the more I sat with it, the more I realised there was probably something much deeper underneath their answer.

And I think… I finally understood it.

Parenting Is Beautiful, But It Is Also Constant

One thing I am learning about parenting is that it never really switches off.

It is constant giving.
Constant thinking.
Constant carrying.

Even in moments of rest, your mind is still working.

Did they eat properly?
Are they emotionally okay?
Did I handle that conversation right?
What do they need from me that they are not saying out loud?

Motherhood, in particular, can sometimes feel like existing with part of your heart permanently outside your body.

And while it is deeply beautiful, it is also deeply demanding.

I think sometimes we romanticise parenting so much that parents can feel guilty admitting that certain seasons are exhausting.

But two things can exist at the same time:
You can deeply love your children…
and still acknowledge that parenting requires an enormous amount from you emotionally, mentally, physically, and spiritually.

Parenting Changes With Every Phase

What really stayed with me after watching that video was the reminder that parenting comes in phases.

The newborn phase.
The toddler phase.
The primary school years.
The teenage years.
The young adult years.

And each phase asks something different of you.

Some seasons require physical exhaustion.
Others require emotional endurance.
Some demand patience.
Others demand letting go.

I think about where I am now as a mother and how much of myself I constantly pour out. The emotional labour of parenting is often invisible. You are showing up even when tired. Giving even when empty. Holding conversations, making decisions, carrying routines, supporting emotions, and trying to nurture healthy human beings all at once.

And perhaps what those women meant was not that they stopped loving motherhood when their children grew up…

Perhaps they simply meant there was relief in finally exhaling.

Relief in knowing their children were okay.
Relief in reclaiming parts of themselves.
Relief in entering a different phase of motherhood that no longer required constant survival mode.

Mothers Are People Too

I think sometimes mothers are expected to endlessly give without ever acknowledging their own humanity.

To sacrifice quietly.
To cope endlessly.
To pour and pour without ever asking who is pouring back into them.

But mothers are people too.

Women with emotions.
Dreams.
Exhaustion.
Needs.
Identity beyond caregiving.

And I think healthy parenting also involves recognising that we matter too.

Not only as parents.
But as people.

Even Jesus Withdrew to Rest

This also made me reflect on how even Jesus stepped away to rest, pray, and restore Himself. He constantly gave to people, yet He still recognised the importance of withdrawal, quietness, and renewal.

I think many parents carry guilt around needing space, rest, or moments to themselves. But rest is not rejection. Taking care of yourself is not selfishness.

In fact, I believe children benefit from seeing parents who are emotionally aware enough to acknowledge their own limits.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

Matthew 11:28

The Beauty of Every Season

The more I reflected on that video, the more I realised something else.

One day, this current phase will pass too.

The busy mornings.
The endless snacks.
The emotional check-ins.
The school runs.
The tired evenings.
The constant calls of “Mum.”

One day, the house really will become quieter.

And I know that when that day comes, part of me will probably miss the very things that currently exhaust me.

Because parenting is strange like that.

It stretches you and softens you at the same time.
It empties you and fills you simultaneously.

And maybe the goal is not to rush through the phases or pretend every moment is magical.

Maybe the goal is simply to be present enough to recognise the beauty and weight each season carries while giving ourselves grace along the way.

Because parenting was never meant to be perfection.

It was always going to be love, sacrifice, growth, exhaustion, healing, and learning… all existing together in the same story.