Author: Katie Welker

Let it Linger

by Katie Welker

Each night when i’m leaving my son’s room at bedtime, I linger in the doorway for a few extra moments. It started when we were building his sleep habits. I’d stand in the doorway with the hallway light flooding in so he could see me and say, “close your eyes, it’s okay, mommy loves you”. It helped give him the emotional reassurance to be alone in his own room.

But now I do it for me. The lingering is a way I try to preserve the moment, to capture the memory that I know is fleeting. To say, “I love you” just one more time so I know it’s the last thing he hears as he falls asleep.

I don’t know a single woman on this planet who wouldn’t agree that motherhood is hard. And it’s not just hard, it’s complex.

Because these sweet moments top off a day that sometimes has the emotional equivalent of a rollercoaster ride with no seatbelt. Some days it just whips you around and all you can do is white-knuckle the safety bar in hopes you’ll make it out alive. And to top it off, the feeling of guilt is a regular passenger. As if you’re the one who forgot to buckle the seatbelt so the chaos is solely your fault.

But that’s why i’ve found it’s important to linger when it’s good, and change course as quickly as possible when it’s hard.

Changing course keeps you moving forward, even if you’re zigzagging across an unknown path and no one is in sight. Even if you realize later on that you were in your own way. Even if it’s just a small side step or a deep breath. Whatever you can muster to make it better.

And how do we linger? Minimize all distractions and noise so you can be present enough to witness the moments where the opportunity to do so is right in front of you. I’ve found that presence is one of the greatest life hacks, particularly in motherhood.

So linger in the doorway at bedtime. Linger in the embrace of a hug, a giggle, a “mommy, watch this!”, “kiss it make it better”, “sing the mommy song!”, “again! again!”.

Because lingering is where the view gets good, where the world truly stops and says, “this is what it’s all about.”

It’s where you remember why you took the journey in the first place.

It’s what reminds you that it’s all worthwhile.

It’s what keeps you going.

Sappy transitions

by Katie Welker

I’m five months into motherhood and one thing i’ve learned is that, for me, with each new transition comes a wave of new emotions.

Now that i’ve come out of the newborn fog anxiety and complex emotional and physical upheaval of a traumatic birth (can we talk more about the challenges of postpartum?!), I can finally see a lot more clearly.

The trouble is, instead of a fog, now i’m seeing through teary eyes.

Because right in front of me, i’m witnessing time pass. I’m witnessing growth, and change, and milestone and memories all right there in my hands one second and in a moment, gone.

A baby who was once so tiny he fit scrunched up on my shoulder, is now over two feet in length and heavy enough for me to not need to lift weights during workouts anymore.

A baby who couldn’t hold his head up is now rolling around and sitting up and gets a thrill when we brace him as he stands.

A baby who couldn’t go to sleep without being rocked in someone’s arms is now able to be put down in his crib wide awake and soothe himself to sleep (sometimes).

A baby who could barely open his eyes now takes in the outdoors with wonder, stares back at himself in the mirror with a smile, and has a myriad of emotions radiating through those baby blues.

A baby who once didn’t recognize his own hands is now using them to hold my face in his palms as he giggles.

A baby whose first word was “mom”.

A baby.

My baby.

And maybe it’s not the transitions that make me sappy, but it’s the love.

The love that has depths of which I have never known before. The love that shattered me open, threw my fears to the floor, and begged me to become an entirely new version of myself, with a heart that’s twice as big and just as tender.

A love that will push me to hold all of these moments so very close.

And a love that will remind me to hold my baby even closer.