Only that.

Having a fourth child taught me how to relax. The word relax has not been in my vocabulary for most of my life, as a recovering perfectionist, it’s one I try to avoid since surely there’s always something that could be getting done. Action equaled productivity, and rest was merely an opportunity missed- or wasted. Mothers, although an honor, we are more than that title.

Having a fourth brought me to the point of being too outnumbered to live a life of “perfection” and impossible standards, no matter how hard I tried. I was out of the baby phase for 3 years, my youngest and oldest would have a 6-year age gap, and schedules were about to get flipped upside down. With my first three, I could still live this way, because they were born so close in age, and I had my routines down. I was seldom willing to let things ‘just be,’ and heaven forbid we got off our routine or schedule lest my rigid mind surely explode. Sure, I got a lot ‘done’ but it came at a great cost more often than not. My soul was craving rest and stillness, begging for it. I thought I was being a noble mother caring for those around me while simultaneously telling myself I wasn't worthy of the same care. Oh, the lies that took root because I refused to just, relax.

Then, my fourth came along, and it was like starting all over again. It was the beginning and the end; my fourth and my last. Everything I thought I knew so well was tossed out the window. It was real and raw and everything I ever wanted out of motherhood but didn’t know yet. I became stronger and more confident in my motherly instinct, leveled by the realization I could either seize the present moment or continue in my perceived productive chaos. Oftentimes, not both.

And finally, amid sleepless nights, around-the-clock nursing, and caring for my then 6-, 4-, and 3-year old's, I was forced into a position where I would have to rest. I would have to let the days simply unfold as I adapted to our new normal. As I had predicted, all routines and schedules were flipped upside down. Productivity took on a new, beautiful meaning as I made an unexpected transition of my own toward embracing stillness. Rest. Relaxing. Freedom to just be, to exist without a list. To understand, this was it. I wouldn't be living in this season of beautiful chaos, ever again. Having a fourth forced me to slow down, to say no, to let things go on hold- or undone for a little while (gasp). It has been a battle with my mind even still, but it’s caused me to reevaluate my mothering each day and to keep striving to be better- while forgiving myself when I feel I’m falling short. On days like these when my head is aching and my body is begging me to rest, he needs to rest too; and it reminds me that it’s okay to do that.

Only that.