Dear Diary


I found this entry in my diary from when my youngest at the time, was three, and we were in much need of getting rid of her paci.

“Today, we have been “paci-free” with Alise. I must admit, I’ve been dreading this day and even stayed awake last night thinking about it. Not necessarily because of the screaming and crying I thought would be associated with it, but with the anticipation of seeing my daughter sad and confused and not being able to explain or fix it. As her mother, I’m usually the one she comes to when things aren’t just right. That’s my job. I help make it better, somehow or another.

And this time, not fixing it, and feeling so helpless as she goes through this adjustment, is not something to look forward to. In a sense, seeing in her eyes the feeling of being let down. Isn’t that the big fear of a mother? Letting down your children? Not being enough? And, the worst part, them realizing it? Unfortunately, this is not the first time she will feel like I have let her down. No, there have been many, many other times I have failed her at the ripe age of three, and I’m sure there are many more to come. But, to know its coming. To anticipate the moment. Makes it so much harder.

I know it’s just a paci, and there are so many other moments that will be more meaningful in her life than this, but I just wanted to do it right. And, the more I think about it, the more I realize this is parenting. Being there when it’s hard, holding their hand when there are no words, saying, “I’m so sorry you’re going through this,” even if that’s all you can do. And hoping all the other times that you have tried to instill security, self-confidence of who they are as a person, who we are as a family, and that they are unconditionally loved will all come through in that moment. And you wait. You patiently wait for them to learn, and you cheer them along the way and help pick them up when they fall down and then let go and hold your breath as you watch your heart soar outside your body.

Naptime was a crucial point. Falling asleep has always been hard for her, and she has always needed a paci. Today, I laid beside her in the bed and held her hand as we gave kisses and listened to a melody play. She kept asking for her paci, and I kept thinking this was going to last forever, and then, all of a sudden, she fell asleep. This is probably the first time I have seen her sleep without a paci, and I couldn’t stop staring at her. To her mother, she is absolutely beautiful, and to be able to see her entire face while she was at peace, was such a beautiful gift from God. This moment, surprisingly, was a success. And worth remembering forever.”

Such a big milestone in transitioning from baby to toddler. But such a hard time on a momma’s heart. I remember feeling every bit of these words I wrote. I remember feeling like this was such an ordeal. Afraid I was going to do it wrong and mess it all up, and her life would be affected by it forever. Which is the weight we Mommas tend to put on so many moments. Honestly, the pressure we put on ourselves can be paralyzing.

But what I have learned, looking back, reading this from four years down the road, is that things that seem so big, are actually just simple little parts. They all stop using a paci, eventually. They won’t go to high school un-potty trained. They will eat when they get hungry. And that lovey will someday stay in bed, and it won’t be attached to them anymore. Someday, they won’t be as excited when you pull up to the car wash and will stop calling it the cleaner washer. These milestones are big. But the pressure we put on ourselves, that takes away from the sacred preciousness of the moment should not be.

Take a deep breath and give yourself a little grace. Give them a little grace. Let them be little as long as time will allow. Memorize all the ways they will only be little once. Don’t worry about all the standards or insta-perfect pictures you scroll across or that Momma at school pick-up that’s always smiling in her heels.

God made you their Momma for a reason. He knew exactly who they needed, and they needed you. Let them eat Mac and Cheese for breakfast if that’s all you can get down them. Let them wear the Wonder Woman shoes with their Sunday dress. Be okay with the 15 pacis they try to carry around. Don’t fret over these things. Relish in them. These things will be everything you want to remember. These things will be the stories you tell them about when they are older. And, from the Momma looking four years back on the toddler years, I can assuredly tell you, these things will only last a little while.



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Hello all! I am a mother of three girls. Gracelyn is 8, Alise is 6, and Sayge went to Heaven at 7 weeks old. (SUIDS, which pretty much means they have no idea why she died) I was a social worker/admissions coordinator at Carillon Nursing Home in my previous life, and had quit to stay home to raise my kiddos after we had our youngest. I’m very active in kickboxing, Karate, and sparring. I know, crazy, but it has been my saving grace in dealing with the loss of our daughter. I have a fb page we had created to give out information for her funeral that turned into Letters to Sayge, and an instagram account Whispersofcourage where I try to infuse hope into the idea of going through life after the loss of a child. I also am a Lubbock coordinator for the West TX Chapter of a group called Hope Mommies that provides local support for mothers and families who has suffered child loss. I grew up on a farm in a small town. Met my husband, Shawn, in college at ACU, who I have been married to for 13 years and counting and is the love of my life. My main goal is simply to make a difference in the lives of others, while living this life to the fullest, and sharing the hope of Christ along the way.