To the In-Between Mamas: Grieving, Growing, and Learning to Just Be

There are seasons of motherhood that no one prepares you for — the ones that creep in quietly and then suddenly feel overwhelmingly loud.

This picture brings all the feels…

Seasons where you’re raising pre-teens, teens, or even young adults… and your heart is stretched in ways you never expected.

This is the season I’m in now — one I never imagined I would walk as a solo parent, one I never thought I’d be navigating without my husband, without their father, without my partner in the everyday chaos of raising a family.

And as I step into my second Christmas without Quintin, every memory, every small shift, every tiny tradition hits differently.

Today, a memory from 2017 popped up on my phone. A simple moment, nothing dramatic — just a snapshot of our life back then. But as soon as I saw it, the tears filled my eyes. Six years ago feels like a different lifetime, a different version of me, a different version of all of us.

The kids were little.

Life was loud and messy.

We were exhausted but in that sweet, innocent way.

And Quintin was here.

Back then, they still believed in the magic of Christmas.

They still woke up early with bedhead and giggles.

They still asked where the elves were hiding.

And they still needed me in a way that felt simple and predictable.

But this year?

Not one of them asked about the elves.

Not one even mentioned the traditions that once felt like the heartbeat of our holidays.

And that’s when it hit me:

I’ve entered the era of the In-Between Mama.

This in-between stage…

Between childhood and adulthood.

Between needing you and pulling away.

Between innocence and independence.

Between holding tight and learning to let go — even when your own heart isn’t ready.

Motherhood in this season looks nothing like the years before it.

The Shift No One Warns You About

When they were little, the work was physical — diapers, baths, late-night feedings, tying shoes, packing lunches, wiping tears that could easily be kissed away.

Now, the work is emotional.

And it is heavy.

It looks like waiting up for them to get home.

Holding your breath through their heartbreaks.

Navigating the hormones, the moods, the eye rolls, the slammed doors.

Letting them make decisions you hope they’re ready for.

Trying to guide, without controlling.

Trying to stay close, without smothering.

And doing it all while grieving.

Doing it all while trying to hold a family together when a piece of the family is missing.

Doing it all while slowly finding your footing as a widowed mama — a title you never wanted, never chose, and still don’t fully recognize yourself in.

Some days I feel strong.

Some days I feel so lost.

Most days, I feel both at the exact same time.

The Loneliest Busy Season

This season might be the busiest I’ve ever been as a mom — juggling schedules, emotions, milestones, first jobs, senior years, college decisions, and everything in between.

But it is also, without question, the loneliest.

There is no one to nudge at night and whisper,

“Did you hear what our teenager just said?”

No one to tag-team the hard conversations.

No one to fall apart with behind closed doors.

No one to laugh with about the chaos.

No one to share that knowing look across the room — that “we made these humans” look I miss so deeply.

And the kids feel it too.

They miss him in ways they don’t always say out loud.

Grief shows up differently in each of them — sometimes quietly, sometimes loudly, sometimes at the most unexpected moments.

It shows up in the silence after a tough day.

It shows up in the ache of the holidays.

It shows up in the conversations we all wish we could still have with him.

What I’m Learning About This Season

Missing the Little Things (Even the Elf!)

If you had told me five years ago that I’d miss scrambling out of bed because I forgot to move the elf on the shelf…
I would have laughed.

But now?
I miss it.
I miss the magic in their eyes.
I miss the laughter.
I miss the moments I didn’t know were fleeting.

Grief teaches you that the smallest things were actually the big things.

A Word to My Fellow In-Between Mamas

If you’re in this season too — especially if you’re grieving while mothering — here’s what I want you to know:

You don’t have to have the perfect words.

You don’t have to have the perfect answers.

You don’t have to carry it all flawlessly.

You just have to BE.

Be present.

Be gentle.

Be the soft place for them to land.

Be the person they know will show up — even when they pretend they don’t notice.

Your presence is enough.

Even when your heart feels stretched thin.

Even when the grief hits out of nowhere.

Even when you’re learning as you go.

This season is hard.

But it is also holy.

Sacred.

Transforming.

What If…

Maybe this year looks different.

Maybe the traditions have shifted.

Maybe the magic has changed.

Maybe the memories sting more than they used to.

But we’re still here.

Still loving.

Still mothering.

Still showing up.

And maybe — just maybe — that’s exactly what our children need most.

To all the In-Between Mamas, especially the grieving ones…

I see you.

I’m with you.

And we’re going to make it through this season — together.

💓✝️

Lori 

Love to share part of my vulnerable grief journey with you… please take the time to read and leave a comment on my blog. I read and cherish everyone of them ❤️‍🩹

If you in the thick of it with your littles and you are looking for some EASY new Elf Ideas…look no futher than HERE