Wandering Texan Journal

Motherhood was the one road I always knew I wanted to travel — but it hasn’t been a straight shot. Instead, it’s been full of mile markers I never expected: early beginnings, heartbreaking detours, hard climbs, and breathtaking surprises. Each one has shaped me in ways I could have never expected.

At 18 (and yes, my first was planned), I became a mom — bananas in itself. Two years later, I was holding my second daughter while still trying to figure out which direction I was headed. Those years were overwhelming, messy, and beautiful all at once — like driving at night without headlights but knowing there was something worth reaching for just ahead.

The truth is, my idea of being a mom only went as far as the love I knew I’d have for my babies — because honestly, I had no clue what I was in for. I was thrown into the whirlwind right away: my firstborn spent a week in the hospital, my second somehow managed blowouts no diaper could contain, my third came with an expressive personality (and vocabulary to match), and my fourth? He arrived with a never-ending appetite.

The real markers of motherhood turned out to be different than I imagined: the unknown, the meltdowns, the laughter, and the lessons I never expected to learn.

Looking back, I can see the mile markers that defined those years — each one surprising me in its own way. Some taught me resilience, some broke me open, and others brought joy I didn’t know I needed.

It was in those early years that my first mile marker appeared.

Mile Marker 1: Growing Up Alongside My First Two

While my friends were decorating dorm rooms or taking a gap year, I was learning how to cradle a newborn and set an alarm to give her medicine for reflux. At 18, motherhood felt like learning to dance to music I’d never heard before — clumsy at first, but slowly finding the rhythm.

By 21, I had two little girls, and my days were a blur of diaper changes, cuddling, and sticky toddler hands tugging at my jeans. Even in the middle of daycare runs and long workdays, there were bright spots that carried me through: giggles at pickup, tiny arms reaching for me, love that made the most chaotic mornings bearable.

There were funny moments, too — like my oldest trying to walk in my heels with a bra draped around her shoulder, giggling hysterically as she declared she was ‘walking like Mommy.’ Looking back, I realize I wasn’t just raising them — I was growing up right alongside them. Motherhood was shaping me at the same time I was still trying to figure out who I was.

Mile Marker 2: When the Road Took a Turn

One of the hardest mile markers in my journey was the season when I lost custody of my two older girls. It wasn’t something I could have ever imagined — for me or for them, still so tiny and dependent. The details are complicated, but what I carry most from that time isn’t the paperwork or the lawyers. It’s the silence in a space that once held their laughter, their footsteps, their love.

That season broke me. My creativity vanished, the well ran dry. I stopped making, dreaming, believing I had anything left to offer. The grief reshaped me from the inside out, forcing me to face my mistakes, my limits, and the kind of ache that lingers even when the world moves on.

And yet, even in that pain, it became a mile marker — one that taught me love doesn’t disappear just because life takes a turn you never planned. I learned that motherhood isn’t defined only by proximity. Sometimes it’s measured in prayers whispered at night, in memories held close, and in the love that endures even when circumstances change the shape of family. Love doesn’t vanish with distance — it simply learns new ways to stretch and stay.

Mile Marker 3: Motherhood After Loss

When my husband and I married, we hoped to add to our family — but the road wasn’t smooth. In the process of trying for a baby, I learned the precancerous cells on my cervix had returned for the second time, and I had to undergo another procedure to remove them. With that scare also came a sliver of hope when, at my follow-up appointment, I found out I was pregnant. Soon after, I miscarried — another mile marker I never expected.

I remember sitting in the quiet, a million thoughts racing through my head, all of them ending with one word: why. That loss slowed me down again, forcing me to grieve, to wrestle with faith, and to simply put one foot in front of the other.

About nine months later, we welcomed the news of a new pregnancy — but it came with its own challenges. The abnormal cells had returned once more, which meant a flood of doctor’s appointments, constant monitoring, and countless prayers that nothing would compromise my first son’s safety. 

His birth came after so much waiting and worry, and though it was my hardest labor, it left me with an overwhelming sense of relief and gratefulness. I carried him differently — not just in my arms, but in my heart, with a gratitude and fierce protectiveness that ran deeper than words. Slowly, the part of me that had gone quiet after losing my girls began to heal, and with it came the spark to create again.

This mile marker taught me that joy and heartbreak often run parallel. The detour I never wanted gave me the perspective I didn’t know I needed. Even in the hardest stretches of road, life had a way of bringing me back to wonder.

Mile Marker 4: Soaking in the Scenery

After my first son was born, I thought the hardest roads were behind me — but the years that followed brought their own twists. By the time he turned two, I was navigating a string of health issues: cardiac scares, recurring gynecological problems, and then the discovery of a tumor on my abdomen. The tumor was removed through surgery, followed by a recovery that, though not my first, carried its own set of challenges and taught me patience all over again.

Not long after, I found myself back in the doctor’s office. By early 2024, the continual gynecological issues had led me to consider a hysterectomy. When my doctor said that they didn’t feel it was necessary, I left with frustration and thinking that there was no way my family would grow more.

Life wasn’t simple in other ways either — my husband lost his job, and custody changes with my second daughter added more weight to an already heavy year. And then, in the middle of what felt like constant changes, came the most unexpected news: I was pregnant with my last baby boy.

Motherhood in my late 30s looks nothing like it did at 18. Back then, I ran on survival mode. Now, I find myself slowing down, noticing the details I once sped past: silly toddler chatter in the backseat, how my son’s breathing changes as they fall asleep, the quiet peace of a house that finally exhales at night. Having children nearly two decades apart has reminded me there isn’t one “right” way to do this. There are just seasons — each carrying its own blend of exhaustion and joy.

This mile marker taught me to breathe a little deeper, loosen my grip on the wheel, and trust that even the bumpy stretches hold beauty worth noticing. The journey isn’t about rushing to the destination — it’s about finding gratitude in the unexpected curves along the way.

The Bigger Lesson: Embracing the Journey

As the saying goes, “hindsight is 20/20.” Looking back, I don’t see mistakes or wrong turns — I see the path that was meant for me: the early years that grew me up alongside my girls, the detour of custody loss that broke me but stretched my love across distance, the miscarriage that taught me grief and gratitude can share the same road, and the surprise of later-in-life motherhood that reminded me to slow down and notice the scenery.

Some markers broke me, some healed me, and others gave me back the spark to create again.

And through it all, I realized something important: motherhood isn’t about racing toward a perfect destination. It’s about traveling mile after mile, moment after moment — learning as you go (because no child is the same), adjusting to the curves, and realizing that each stretch of road shapes both us and our children in ways we could never plan for.

Each moment, whether joyful or heartbreaking, has been a growth point that shaped me as a mom and as a woman.

Your mile markers may look different than mine, but every mom has them — the unexpected hospital stays, grocery store tantrums, the quiet victories, the sleepless nights that blur into morning. They aren’t just obstacles. They’re the very moments shaping who we are becoming.

Which is why I want to leave you with this:

✨ Journaling Prompt: What’s one mile marker you’ll never forget — the kind that surprised you, stretched you, or made you stronger? Write it down… and if you feel brave, share it in the comments so another mama can be encouraged by your story.

However you answered — or even if you’re still thinking on it — remember this: no matter what season you’re in — whether you’re bone-tired in the newborn stage, navigating toddler chaos, or soaking up teenage milestones — remember this: you’re not on this journey alone. We’re all walking it together, learning as we go.

From my road to yours, happy wandering.