There is no preparation for losing your “job” as a stay at home mom. It just happens somewhat overnight. There is no final day, no retirement party and no one waiting to ask what you plan to do next. Your children simply begin to leave—and the role around which you built your life begins to disappear.
During a recent layover while taking one of my twins back to his East Coast college, I met up with my millennial cousin, the mom of two young adorable boys. I congratulated her on the major promotion that she had worked so hard to earn in a male-dominated industryand we talked pretty openly about how hard motherhood is. Like, really, really hard. No matter what a mother does she will always feel that she is coming up short. This goes for both stay-at-home and working moms. Neither of us had ever subscribed to the “mommy wars”—the supposed clash between working moms and those who stay at home. We were all just doing our best. There is little support for women in those long days of parenting little ones. We were told growing up we could have it all. I spent years truly believing that, but as my cousin and I talked, we agreed that “having it all” was a myth women had been fed far too long.
It was not lost on me how our paths of motherhood were so dramatically different. She was a working mother doing her absolute best for her boys while managing a very successful career. I, on the other hand, stepped out of the workforce after a long stint on bedrest with my twins.
I made the decision to not return to work and instead be a full-time stay at home mom for a host of reasons: the cost of daycare for infant twins, a grueling commute and, more than anything, my desire not to miss the milestones and ordinary moments of my children’s lives. I am grateful I had a choice in the matter, but being home with my kids was something I was willing, at the time, to sacrifice almost everything to do.
The twins were eventually followed by a daughter and life as their mom and full-time caregiver although difficult at times was also very rewarding. I loved my front row seat to the story of their lives unfolding. I loved the team the four of us became and all our adventures. And if I am being honest, I even miss the difficult times when I was so sleep deprived and my son cried all day, or when they fought with their sister. They really were the best years of my life.
That is until the oldest two headed off to college while their younger sibling was in her final two years of high school.
Yes, the college drop-off and empty bedrooms were as difficult as every mother who has done it says. Leaving your child at school and saying goodbye feels strange because it is the exact opposite of what you’ve spent the last 18 years doing: guiding, shaping, helping and most importantly, keeping them safe. Then, one day, you hug them goodbye and hope for the best.
There were plenty of tears, plenty of worry and many nights spent stalking Life360. With one child still at home, I showered her with much more attention than she probably bargained for. I understood how quickly the remaining years would pass and wanted to soak up every second—even if that meant smothering her just a little..
Still, the emptiness arrived seemingly out of nowhere. It hit me hard and left me struggling with an identity I no longer understood.
What no one—and I mean no one—prepared me for was the feeling of “now what?” Who am I if not their mom? And what is my next chapter supposed to be?
I was almost embarrassed to still identify as a stay-at-home mom. The shame of having given up a career and put my master’s degree on a shelf began to in. How does someone like me just jump right back into the workforce? How do I explain to friends that I am still a stay-at-home mom when two thirds of my children no longer live at home?
The struggle has been very very real. Do not get me wrong, I am beyond thankful to have had all those years with my kids, witnessing firsthand as their lives unfolded. I never had to choose between a deadline and a baseball game. I realize just how privileged I have been. But gratitude doesn’t erase the inner turmoil that can follow when the young people to whom you devoted everything begin to fly from the nest.
There is a significant identity shift when one becomes a mother. In recent years, we have at least begun to acknowledge the loss of self that women can experience when they become new mothers. We are finally talking more openly about what it means to bring home a baby and no longer recognize the woman staring back at you.
What we have not done is circle back and talk about the identity shift that happens when those same children grow up and leave—whether for college, the military or the workforce. Because, shockingly they do grow up.
Who is listening to those of us drowning in the silence of uncertainty? Yes, sending your kids off to college is gut-wrenching for most. But what is equally hard is coming home, looking at yourself in the mirror and not knowing who is staring back at you.
Check on the moms whose children have grown up and moved out. Whether they’re working or not, they may need to hear, “How are you, really?” Ask them what they miss. Ask them what they want now. And give them the time and space to learn the answer.
