I am reposting this from a community board that I shared it on. I've edited out some parts but the meat of the post really struck home with a lot of my fellow community members and I thought I would share it with you all too!
There really isn't a closing or a point, just an authentic thought that I wonder if others can relate to. That said, I hope some folks can gain something from it, even if it is just knowing that this "transition" phase is common.
This baby is our third and we are done. Just writing that feels strange. I go to get togethers and talk about a fourth, bump into friends at the gym and it comes up too. I don't even think I really WANT a fourth, it's just that I don't know how to act as I close up this chapter. I don't know what else to look forward to- and that makes me feel rather blah.
I went back to work part time so that I'd have something to turn my attention too outside of this craziness called motherhood, but I still find myself really uneasy about being "done".
These last 5 years of young motherhood have been filled with such a concentrated intensity. I have moments of past life regret, frustration, marital concerns, etc that are counter balanced by moments of extreme gratitude, overwhelming love and heart-explosion affection for my kids....
And I just don't know how to leave this place of being a mom with a baby on my hip but I just can't imagine another round of sleepless nights, challenging phases (currently have a threenager), and just mind-boggling "busy-ness".
I have three boys and the energy and constant movement has programmed my brain to be in this constant state of "what's next?", "what needs to get done", "who needs a diaper change", "what needs to be packed for school", "It's a Monday, he needs to bring a blanket for rest time", "did I give him his antibiotic?", "did I give him his pro-biotic?", "did they get their vitamins?", "Dinners wrapping up, segue to TV while I clean, then bath, books, bed...".
I have this internal monologue constantly interrupting whatever peace I had before kids (although, I've always had a busy mind).
It's just a strange place for me. No more conversations about going for another. No more packing up infant and baby hand me downs. But in the absence of considering the next baby, there is this emotionless vacuum and, I'm embarrassed to admit this as a woman, I'm not sure what I'll do or how I'll define myself without the demands of little children.
I know my boys are still young and things get tougher with schedules (which is why I know three is plenty), but when I no longer see myself as being pregnant or nursing, I immediately fast forward my life and get a little sad thinking about it.