The Last Time.

Taken By Alexus Maynard

They always say there was a last time. A last time that most often goes unnoticed. Can you remember yours? The last time you carried your sleeping child from the car into the house. The last bedtime prayer whispered beside their bed. The last story you read before they could read on their own. The last night they slept in your room before mom and dad sleepovers weren’t cool anymore.

Today I created a last so I would never forget it. Today was the last time I gazed into my daughter’s eyes while she was still attached to me. The last time she would need my body to nourish her in this sacred and intimate way. Today was the last time I breastfed my little girl and depending on how life unfolds it may be the last time I ever breastfeed. That truth feels like a dagger to my heart.

I always wanted more babies. I always wanted a family that stayed whole. I never wanted things to feel broken. But sometimes life breaks anyway. Glasses shatter. Hearts ache. And you are forced to adjust the vision you once had for your life. The thought of never carrying another baby. Never feeling those tiny kicks. Never laying in a quiet hospital room with a newborn on my chest still shatters me. And at the same time I am ever so incredibly grateful that I was given the chance to be a mama at all. Knowing how many women yearn for the opportunity to become pregnant even once. Knowing mamas who grieve babies they never got to bring home. Truly understanding that kind of loss has humbled me deeply. I was blessed to experience motherhood not once but twice and I hold that truth with gratitude I cannot fully put into words. Sometimes that makes the sadness feel selfish but we are human and gratitude and grief are allowed to exist together. I thank God every single day for making me a mama not just once but twice and I will spend my life grateful for that gift.

Still the pain remains. During my daughter’s first precious year my life was unraveling. My marriage was unraveling. I was suffering in silence trying to hold the world together keep my business afloat and be more than just a good mom. I moved three times in one year and learned that material things mean nothing. I realized that even when I was physically present for so many moments mentally I was often somewhere else. Knowing that breaks me.

But as the year went on something shifted. I began to find a version of myself I had never met before. A version who was wounded but growing. One who started to understand her worth change her perspective and for the first time experience a glimmer of true peace. I learned that peace is not given it is created. And I learned all of this while growing my newborn into the beautiful little girl she is today.

I cannot get that time back but we survived it. And now my goal is to slow down. To wake up earlier. Watch the sunrise. Listen to the tiny feet running through my house. To work on my business but not let my business run me. While today closes a chapter I am afraid I may never experience again it also opens a new one with a version of myself I am still learning. One who is present. One who listens when things do not feel right. One who puts her babies first always.

Breastfeeding was so much more than nourishment. It was one of the most intimate healing and grounding experiences of my life. Through everything this past year it gave me unmatched joy and comfort. My daughter healed parts of me I never knew needed healing. My son did too in his own ways. But having a daughter made me see myself differently. It made me realize how deeply I just wanted to be loved and cherished and how powerful the bond between a mother and her children truly is.

Closing this chapter shatters me. But knowing there is still so much life ahead so many possibilities and so much love to give is slowly super gluing the cracks. I am ready to reclaim my body not for how it looks but for how far it has carried me. For nourishing my babies for two full years and growing them for eighteen months. Our bodies are incredible and they deserve more grace than we give them.

I have struggled with body dysmorphia my whole life. Mirrors have never been kind to me. But today I can say I am grateful for this body flaws and all because without it I would not be here loving these beautiful babies.

The days are long sometimes. But not a single day goes by that I do not think if I could just have one last. And maybe that is the point. Someday we will wish for just one more day of crying toddlers food on the walls and tired eyes. So maybe instead of calling today just another day we can see it as one day less and love it a little harder.

True unbreakable love is all I have ever needed. And that is exactly what I found in motherhood. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to experience growing another miracle, but even if that day never comes, God has already blessed me with more than I ever deserved in the two hearts walking outside my body.

Thank you for being here,

Kaitlyn