I no longer need to be in the center—the day the baton of life was passed. I waited at home.

“I’m having a scheduled delivery this week.
Please wait at home, Mom. I’ll do my best.”

That message came from my daughter-in-law on a day when the summer sun felt painful.
It’s finally time for the baby to be born, I thought, feeling nervous myself.

Even though she told me to stay home...
I wanted to sneak off to the nearby station, but I wondered what my daughter-in-law would think.

In truth, I wanted to go to the hospital and welcome that moment together with my son and daughter-in-law.

The birth of my first grandchild.
I couldn't settle down, and I wanted to rush over if anything happened.

I heard my son would be present for the birth, but even so, a mother’s heart couldn't find peace.

Should I prepare lunch for my son?
I want to relieve him when he takes a break.
Is there anything they need?

If there was anything I could do, I wanted to do it. That was the feeling I had as I welcomed that day.

But what I actually did that day was—not go to the station near the hospital, but wait for that moment at my home far away.

Watering the flowers and tidying up the room. I spent my time doing my usual routine just as always.

I decided to quietly watch over the birth of a new family for the young couple.

“I want to be by their side.”
“I want to do something for them.”

While I felt that way,
I also felt, “This isn't a place for me to step into right now.”

When we gave birth to our children, there were times when parents would rush to the maternity clinic and wait for that moment in the lobby. But nowadays, it is an era where almost no one except the husband is permitted to enter the hospital.

If it were the me from a little while ago, I might have felt this sensation as “loneliness.” A sense of alienation, as if I had stepped one step outside the center of the family. I might have thought, perhaps I am no longer needed.

Graduating from motherhood means yielding the center.

But when I actually tried waiting, strangely, I didn't feel lonely this time.
Rather, I felt, ah, I have truly fulfilled my role.
That is how I felt.

My son is no longer the child I need to protect. He is building a family with someone precious, and now they are about to welcome a new life.

I no longer need to be in the center of that.

The urge to rush over is the love of a mother wanting to help her son. But I realized that is no longer necessary.

Perhaps 'graduating from motherhood' means yielding the center.

Waiting is a feeling of trust that it is okay to leave things to them. And above all, I trusted my daughter-in-law and the baby. Everything will be fine.

I even felt proud of my son for reaching this day.

I want to leave the parenting that starts now to the two of them as much as possible, without interfering. That is what I am thinking.

And finally, that night, a baby girl was born safely.

With the news via LINE from my son, I felt relief, gratitude toward my daughter-in-law for her hard work, and a sense that something in me had truly come to an end.

Perhaps my mother felt this way too

And what occurred to me at that moment was that my mother must have watched over us as we became parents with these same feelings.

What I have conveyed until now is how to face the loneliness of letting go of one's children and how to become free from the relationship with one's own mother.

But through this experience, I feel that what I want to convey about 'graduating from motherhood' has expanded a little more.

It is—

That we, as mothers, have indeed passed on the baton of life.
And that we no longer need to be in the center.

Since becoming a mother, there were times when I was crushed by the hardships of raising children, regrets about what I should have done differently, and guilt over things I had done.

But what comes back from children who have grown up—

It might be the moment when you can feel that the time you lived as a mother, including all the regrets and guilt, was all just right.

And for the first time, I feel I can thank from the bottom of my heart the mother who gave birth to and raised me, and the mother-in-law who helped me raise my children.

Honestly, I never imagined that such a view would be waiting for me beyond the pain of letting go of my child, and even further beyond that.

Being a mother is wonderful!
Don't you think so?