There are certain chapters in motherhood that don’t close with a single moment — they close slowly, quietly, while a part of us keeps hoping we can stay in them just a little longer.
For me, that chapter was the baby years, and the quiet truth that my days of welcoming a newborn into my arms were behind me.
I think for many years a part of me always held a tiny space for “maybe one more.” Not in a way I spoke about, but in the little ways mothers hold on — like keeping the newborn clothes and tiny shoes tucked safely in the boxes. As long as they stayed there, the possibility stayed, too.
And for a long time, I wasn’t ready to let go of that. I waited, allowing myself a little space before fully acknowledging that this season in my life had passed. Carrying a quiet hope because I wasn’t ready to call that stage a memory.
Over the last few weeks, I finally did.
Letting myself feel it, instead of pushing it away, has been tender, emotional, and harder than I want to admit. I’m sharing it here because I know I’m not alone in this journey, and I hope my words may offer comfort to others letting go of this stage.
Why This Grief Matters
There are many reasons a family stops growing — infertility, miscarriage, age, health, logistics, finances, or simply when one partner feels complete and the other still holds a quiet wish in their heart.
Whatever the reason, grieving not having more children still hurts.
There isn’t a handbook for this kind of grief. Talking about it helps — confiding in people we trust, giving the feelings space instead of pushing them away.
Some seasons of motherhood aren’t solved with logic — they’re felt through slowly one day at a time even when we’re deeply grateful for the children we have.
The Baby Boxes
For years, the baby boxes sat quietly in the attic — untouched, taking up space, collecting dust.
I saved everything. The tiny pajamas, the soft swaddles, the first little shoes.
Not out of clutter — but out of hope. Hope for “maybe one more.”
Recently, I finally opened those bins.
And the moment I touched those tiny clothes, it all came rushing back: the nights rocking babies half-asleep, the sweet weight of a newborn on my chest, the version of me who lived in those moments and loved them so completely.
It wasn’t just clothes. It was the closing of the baby years — and I finally felt it.
Motherhood is a thousand tiny goodbyes… and this one was bigger than most.
What I Realized Sitting There
As I sat there amongst all the clothes, toys, books, I felt the quiet ache of knowing that chapter had closed for quite some time— and that letting go of all the physical mementos was part of making space for who I’m becoming.
And yes — even with the hard parts of pregnancy, including gestational diabetes and those sleepless newborn nights — I would do it all again in a heartbeat. I shared more about my gestational diabetes journey in another post; you can read it here.
I was that little girl who always dreamed of motherhood and couldn’t wait to be a mother. So sorting through those items wasn’t just about material things — it was grieving a version of life I won’t live again. And saying goodbye to that version of myself.
Letting them go wasn’t easy, but it was time. Sometimes releasing the physical helps us release emotionally.
Not to forget — but to honor, and make space for what comes next.
Why Memory Matters So Much to Me
Letting go of chapters has always been hard for me. Maybe that’s why I built a business around preserving them.
I photograph families because childhood and those early years is fleeting. Because preserving their smallest moments matters. Because one day, these photos become heirlooms — the bridge between a moment and a memory.
Helping others honor their seasons helps me honor mine, too.
In this photo is my Dad and my kids reminscining through a legacy family session I did a few years ago. I gifted both my dad and son matching albums so even though they are in two countries they can both look through their memories.
Moving Forward With Hope
The women I work with — especially those entering new seasons of motherhood and life in their 40s — have shown me that beauty doesn’t end when the baby years do.
Life continues to expand. As women we continue to evolve. There are still so many new beginnings waiting for us.
This grief is real but so is the gratitude and so is the hope.
I am learning to hold all three.
To every mother walking through this quiet grief —
I see you.
Your feelings matter.
You’re not alone.
And whatever comes next can be beautiful, too.
If you’re also in a season of letting go…
Whether you’re
- quietly grieving the end of the baby years,
- accepting being done having kids,
- or simply learning to make peace with a chapter closing…
I hope this reminds you that your emotions are valid and that there is so much life still waiting for you.
We don’t move on from chapters like this —
we move through them and on the other side is growth, depth, wisdom and new beautiful memories waiting to unfold…
and most of all a new version of ourselves we’re still getting to meet.
Grieving a life a thought I would live – but in all of it, I just feel so much gratitude for the two healthy babies I have.
Celebrating a New Version of Me
Recently, I did a 40th birthday photoshoot to commemorate this new version of me — a way to honor who I am today, the chapters I’ve closed, and the ones still ahead. It was a powerful, emotional experience, and I highly recommend it for anyone wanting to celebrate themselves in a meaningful way. Stay tuned as I will be sharing some highlights from that session in my next blog.
Let’s connect, motherhood and these transitions can feel so isolating, but you don’t have to navigate them alone. My inbox is always open if you need to talk, reflect, or just share what you’re feeling. You can reach me at hello@reshmasondagar.com — I’d be honored to listen.
Starting planting – they see me working away
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