Letting Go; A Mom's Challenge

I was talking with a young mom recently. Her 18-month-old son is about to begin out-of-home day care for the first time. Concerns for COVID-19 and willingness of extended family to “chip in” meant her son could remain at home during her work days for the past year. Recently, however, this young mom felt it was time for her son to learn socialization, reap the benefit of peers, and make new little friends. Little Henry is beginning a new chapter. She knows this is good, but her anxiety about “letting go” was palpable. She anticipated a very teary first day, and dreaded the possibility of her son having a hard time with separation beyond the safety and security of what he’s always known. 

My heart softened. I remember quite well the trauma of having a teacher peel my children from my arms on their first days of school. These experiences are some of the first in the world of letting go. Yet, as moms, repeated letting go is just part of the job description. The problem is, no one prepares us for how hard it will be, and we never seem to be prepared enough. Even now, for me, letting go is still hard. No, my kids are well past the stage of crying as they leave my embrace (well, maybe my adult daughters still cry from time to time) but watching your children forge ahead with a new life of their crafting still tugs at my heart.

The act of letting go creates new space, whether we want it or not. Leaving your child at a new school, watching him board the kindergarten bus, or driving away from the college dorm without the chatter from the back seat is often tear-worthy. I can still feel the worry that makes lying in bed fraught with apprehensions. I wanted to tell my young friend of the many similar experiences etched in my mother story, but I remember when I was her age, the “I remember when” of “older” moms fell on Teflon ears. When it’s your child, especially your first, it’s hard to feel like you can share your angst; a reflection of such fierce love. 

Here’s where new space can offer a deep breath. What all moms eventually come to know is this: setting your child free beyond your reach means we have to trust there’s someone else waiting that loves, cares for, and expands their possibilities. Childcare workers, preschool and kindergarten teachers are the heroes for the young. Their open arms to those little ones just beginning to enter big life are so impactful. Our kids grow and move on. Open arms continue to await; this is what I still trust. 

I’m certain the smile and warmth of Henry’s teacher, over time, will ease his anxiety with new discoveries, fancy trucks, and irresistible finger paints. His artwork will soon be displayed on the magnet covered refrigerator in his kitchen renewing delight each time a glass of milk is poured. His Mother’s Day handprint on a piece of construction paper will be a most cherished gift, and teacher reports about how delightful he is will only reinforce what this young mom already knows. Henry is just getting started. Hang in there, young moms. We “older” moms see you and will continue to trust for you.