The Quiet Grief of Motherhood: When Growing Up Feels Like Goodbye
Before I became a Mom, my great-grandmother passed on a phrase full of wisdom that I didn’t fully realize until I became a Mom myself.
“Motherhood is a journey of slowly grieving the loss of your children as they grow up.”
I remember thinking, “But it will be so good to watch them grow and learn!” And, I was right... but so was she.
I vividly remember the first time this duality really hit me. I was nursing my newborn to sleep in my bedroom while my husband tried to put our toddler – my firstborn, who had just been weaned – to bed. The event was full of tears on both sides. My toddler crying because he wanted his mom, and me crying because I couldn’t be there for him in the moment. This was the grief I expected.
What I didn’t expect was the shift that occurred when he finally snuggled into his Dad’s arms, completely safe, and peacefully drifted to sleep. This was the first night I hadn’t nursed my firstborn and laid with him until he fell asleep. He didn’t need me to; he was content with Dad. This was our first bedtime apart. And my heart, my soul, grieved deeply.
This I was not expecting. This slight letting go, this whisper of him growing away from me, becoming his own person with other, amazing connections. I was no longer his whole world. And as much as I was so glad to see him growing a secure attachment to his wonderful father, my heart grieved, and the grief wracked my body with sobs.
Two things were true in the moment – joy at seeing my baby (turned toddler) create a securely attached moment with his dad, and a sense of loss that our relationship was changing. We were both evolving. And that was both beautiful and sad, a bittersweet anticipation of the future mixed with a quiet longing to remember the past. A present moment full of both hello and goodbye.
The Grief No One Warns Mothers About
This sentiment of quiet grief as our children grow is tender and deeply true for so many mothers I work with. And yet, few people talk openly about this grief — the kind that doesn’t come from crisis or catastrophe, but from love. From change. From watching someone you created slowly grow away from you, exactly the way they’re supposed to.
Mothers often sit across from me and whisper their conflicted thoughts:
“I’m so proud of them… why does it hurt?”
“They’re becoming independent, and I should be happy, but I miss them.”
“No one told me motherhood would feel like one long letting-go.”
The truth is, they’re not alone in this feeling, and neither are you.
When we talk about motherhood, we talk about milestones — the first steps, first days of school, first time they drive away, the first time they don’t need you to stay.
But we rarely talk about the fact that every milestone is also a goodbye.
Goodbye to the baby who needed your arms to fall asleep.
Goodbye to the toddler who followed you from room to room.
Goodbye to the child who believed you knew everything.
Goodbye to the teenager who once confided every detail of their day.
Each version of them disappears quietly, replaced by a new version that you’re still learning to know and love. It’s beautiful. And it’s heartbreaking.
That ache you feel?
It’s not failure.
It’s attachment.
It’s love adapting to growth.
Why This Grief Feels So Heavy
This grief is complex because it’s not tidy. There's no single moment to point to. No one event, memory, or circumstance of loss.
It’s slow, cumulative, and often nearly invisible.
Mothers are often sent messages that invalidate this feeling:
Be present with them in every moment
Celebrate their growth – don't miss who they used to be
But of course you do!
You spent years being someone’s whole world. Their comfort. Their safety. Their guide. Being needed wasn’t a burden — it was a bond.
When that need shifts… so does your identity.
Part of motherhood is watching your children grow; the other is learning to grow alongside them.
This Grief Doesn’t Mean You’re Not Coping Well
Therapists call this ambiguous grief — grief without a clear ending point; grief tied to change rather than loss.
You can love where your children are now.
You can be excited for who they’re becoming.
And … you can still miss them.
This doesn’t make you clingy.
It doesn’t make you unhealthy.
It makes you human.
In fact, this emotional experience is a sign of secure attachment, not dysfunction.
How Mothers Can Honor This Grief Without Feeling Guilty
Here are a few ways I encourage parents I support to care for themselves when this complex feeling sits with them:
Name the feeling
Grief softens when it’s recognized.
Try saying: “This phase is ending, and it’s okay to feel sad about that.”
Allow nostalgia without shame
Looking at old photos doesn’t mean you want to turn back time — it means you’re honoring your story.
Create new rituals as your child grows
Connection doesn’t end — it evolves.
Block castles with your preschooler. Coffee dates with your teen. Evening talks with your adult child. Small rituals matter.
Make space for your own identity
As your child grows into themselves, you get to, too.
This is an opportunity for rediscovery or invention of parts of yourself that feel joyful and authentic to you as a whole human in this stage of life.
Talk about it
Share with a friend, a partner, or a therapist.
This grief becomes lighter when it’s held together.
Why Grief Belongs in Our Journey
Grief walks beside love throughout motherhood, not as a stealer-of-joy, but as a witness to the love shared.
You grieve because you care.
You grieve because you’re invested.
You grieve because watching your children grow is one of the most profound experiences a human can have.
And the beautiful thing?
Every season of letting go makes space for a new season of connection.
Not the same.
Not lesser.
Just different — and just as meaningful.
So, if motherhood feels like a journey of slow, gentle grief with moments of joy interspersed…
You’re not doing it wrong.
You’re doing it right.