A ‘See You Later’ Letter to My Teenage Son

home insemination Kit

He steps out of the car, his long limbs unfolding like a giraffe on stilts, and grabs his backpack and laptop. There’s a hint of cologne mixed with that unmistakable scent of teenage boy—let’s just say he’s not exactly winning any awards for cleanliness. His hair is slicked back with “product” (just a heads up, kids today don’t use the words gel or mousse). He throws me a quick grin, his braces catching the light, and says, “Catch you later, Mom, love ya!” I watch him saunter off to the bus, one shoe partially untied, and he gives me a wave from the window as that yellow bus rolls away to kick off his day.

And here we are—one more goodbye, inching closer to the big one that’s looming a few years ahead.

That goodbye will be the one that tugs at my heartstrings.

The goodbye where he says, “Catch you later, Mom, I’ve got this,” as we drop him off at college.

The goodbye that means he won’t be there beside me in the car, rain softly tapping on the windshield, sharing our favorite tunes while we wait for the bus.

There have been countless “Catch you later, Mom” milestones, each time I’ve watched him stride away, asserting his independence. So many moments when I let his tiny hand slip from mine, thinking we had all the time in the world for him to run back.

But soon, much sooner than I wish, I’ll be watching him walk away, chasing his dreams, and I didn’t fully grasp that these little “Catch you later” moments were prepping me for the day I’d have to let go and trust he’d navigate life without his mother holding his hand.

“Catch you later, Mommy. I’ve got a playroom to wreck!”

When I gently steadied him, letting go of his hands, his chubby feet padded across the hardwood floor towards his dad, giggling with delight after taking those first wobbly steps. We laughed as he fell, proud as a peacock.

I didn’t realize those first steps would lead to him stomping into the kitchen in size 11 sneakers after a breakup.

“Catch you later, Mommy! They have Play-Doh here!”

I snapped a picture of him, beaming in his Thomas the Tank Engine backpack, strutting into preschool for the first time. I waved at the back of his head, not realizing someday I’d stand there watching him enter high school for the last time.

“Catch you later, Mommy! I’m going to ride to the stop sign by myself!”

I held onto his bicycle seat, breathless, cheering him on until he finally took off on his own. As my hand released, my heart soared with pride, not knowing that someday I’d feel the dread of him gripping the steering wheel while I waved goodbye from the porch, heart in my throat.

“Catch you later, Mom. No need to walk me to the door, none of the other parents do…”

I dropped him off at his first co-ed party, watching him ring the doorbell, recalling my own teenage awkwardness. I knew someday he’d be off to college parties, making choices without me by his side.

“Catch you later, Mom. Thanks for doing my laundry…”

I sighed at the sight of his messy room, realizing that as long as it’s cluttered, he’s still here, filling our space with his teenage chaos. Soon, he’ll come home with a laundry sack slung over his shoulder, leaving behind an empty room except for a few childhood keepsakes.

“Catch you later, Mom. Thanks for the extra cash.”

Hearing the ice cream truck on a sunny day, I chased after him with a five-dollar bill. Watching him return with a cone, I cherished those lazy summer days, knowing soon he’d be asking for “book money” that would likely fund other activities.

“Catch you later, Mom. She’s the one, and I can’t wait to marry her.”

Cuddled up with me in his PJs, he’d say he’d marry me one day, and I’d hold him close, knowing that day would come when he’d find someone else. I’d watch him nervously adjust his tie, heart swelling with pride and sadness as he took her hand and said his vows.

As the bus pulls away in the soft morning sun, I whisper, “Catch you later, Son.” And I wait patiently for that “later” to arrive.

For more on parenting and home insemination, check out this post on intracervical insemination. If you’re curious about artificial insemination, Cryobaby offers great resources. Additionally, Cleveland Clinic is an excellent place to learn more about pregnancy and home insemination.

In summary, every little goodbye is a reminder of the journey of growing up, filled with pride, nostalgia, and a hint of sadness. It’s a bittersweet dance of letting go while cherishing the moments we’ve shared.