Slow Progress is Still Progress—His Timing, Not Mine

Often I have to remind myself that things don’t happen on my timeline. I’m a self-proclaimed recovering control freak. I’m reminded over and over again that things don’t always go according to my plans, but it’s still a lesson I have to keep learning.

If you would have asked me as a recent high school graduate what my future would look like, I might have told you about how I’d meet the man of my dreams during my college years, graduate and land a high-paying job, and get married and start a family shortly thereafter. As I progressed through college and into my early working years, and my plans weren’t exactly being realized, I started to despise the question, “where do you see yourself in 5 years?” I could never quite put my finger on it, because I definitely see the value in envisioning the future and making goals. But if I was answering that question honestly, I would have to say “I have no idea!”

Although I was introduced to my dreamboat in college, we didn’t develop feelings until years later. I spent plenty of time during those years feeling lonely, confused and rejected. Little did I know that progressing slowly from a long-term friendship to a relationship was the perfect way to find my perfect match. I always found meaning in the work I did, but I was by no means climbing the corporate ladder. Who knew that the progression of my career was the perfect path to being a stay-at-home mom, something that ambitious high school graduate had no idea I even wanted.

So, looking back on how things have fallen into place, I’m reminded that my plans don’t always work out on my timeline and that’s a very good thing. Along with my misconceptions of exactly how my future would unfold, I also had some specific plans for raising kids. I used to think that when I had children, I would make them smart. I would read to them and work with them, and because of the things I did, my kids would thrive. I could put in enough time, dedication and love and of course they would turn out exactly how I planned. Gosh, I was clueless.

My experience raising kids is not at all what I thought it would be like. I couldn’t have imagined the depth of joy or the sting of heartache that comes along with being a mom. Every parent wants to make things the best they can for their kids, to give them every opportunity for success. But so much of it is outside of our control. Having Gage as my first-born son has taught me so much about life and love, and just how much is out of my control. Another lesson Gage has taught me is to let him take the lead, rather than clinging to my own expectations.

Gage has made a ton of progress since the day we came home from the hospital with a tiny 5 pound baby boy. Before kids I expected to check off milestones like first word, first steps, learning colors, numbers and more.  While Gage’s progress is much different than those typical milestones, it’s still a very big deal. Gage has been going to feeding therapy for about a month now. The instructor working with us acknowledged that things they are working towards can seem like very slow progress. And she’s right. It feels…so…slow. But no matter how slow, Gage is making progress. I need to stay focused on that instead of thinking about unmet expectations. That’s not always easy for a recovering control freak like myself.

Yesterday in therapy, Gage moved his hand to his mouth to bite off a tiny bit of strawberry that was stuck to his finger. I know how small that may seem, but in some ways, it feels huge. Gage will do things, or he won’t, in his own time. It’s hard to say what his future will look like. But if I’ve learned anything in the past 3 years it’s that what he’s able to accomplish is out of my control. His achievements are exactly that…his. They’re not a result of things I’ve done or how hard I’ve tried. Of course I want to do my best for Gage, but maybe the best I can do is celebrate and appreciate each bit of progress, no matter how slow, and love him just the way he is.