Today I cut yet another umbilical cord with my son. He was off to school with his other siblings, and as I watched him walk away, I felt that familiar heaviness settle in my chest—the weight of letting go, once again.

The walk in the park felt different today. Every step felt heavy, and I felt a strong urge to walk away from it all. How was I supposed to enjoy the wind on my face when my little one was buckled up in a classroom seat, not allowed to move freely? The whole summer, this park had been our regular place of amusement. The kids had a blast riding bikes, chasing cats, searching for stones, and picking leaves. Now it was back to school schedules, homework, deadlines, and assignments.

The Strange Paradox of Motherhood

How strange is motherhood—that we are raising people who are dependent on us to be independent of us when we’re not around. We do justice to them by being there when they need us most, being the anchor in their lives when they need us, yet also being able to cut the cord when they need full independence from us.

For my five-year-old, he was initially excited about school, but within a day, it all turned into sadness. He constantly feels like he needs me. His attachment needs are more emotional than physical, and this separation is hitting him really hard. He has mustered the courage to go to school, but those four hours feel like an eternity to him. As night approaches, you can see him going silent and quiet, not expressing his feelings at all. The desire to go back to the life he lived lingers on his face, but he dares not say it.

And that makes a mother’s heart weak.

A Lifetime of Letting Go

The truth is, we keep cutting umbilical cords throughout our children’s lives. The physical one is severed at birth, but the emotional ones? They stretch through our entire lives together. School, then college, jobs, weddings—each milestone is a journey of letting go, and finally, when we pass from this life, we pray that the cords of love and righteousness we’ve nurtured will still connect us.

The Investment That Transcends This World

As Muslim mothers, we have a unique perspective on this journey of letting go. Our beloved Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said:

“When a man dies, his deeds come to an end except for three: ongoing charity, knowledge that is benefited from, and a righteous child who prays for him.” (Sahih Muslim)

SubhanAllah, what a beautiful reminder! Every umbilical cord we cut in this world—every step toward independence we guide our children through—is potentially an investment in our akhirah. The child who struggles to separate from us today could be the one whose duas benefit us when we’re no longer here to hold their hand.

Finding Peace in the Process

The whole summer, the park remained our regular place of amusement. The kids had a blast, and those memories are now precious treasures. But as I stood there today, watching where my son should have been running free, I reminded myself that this too is part of the divine plan.

Every tear shed over separation, every moment of missing them, every prayer whispered for their wellbeing—when done with the intention of raising righteous children who will please Allah—becomes an act of worship. The sleepless nights, the worry, the constant dua for their protection and guidance—all of it counts.

The Ultimate Umbilical Cord

Perhaps the most important umbilical cord we nurture is not one we ever cut—it’s the one that connects our children to Allah. When we teach them to pray, to be kind, to be grateful, to trust in Allah’s plan, we’re creating a connection that will benefit them in this world and the next. And through their righteousness, it will benefit us too.

Parenting, with all its challenges, becomes an act of worship when done with the intention of pleasing Allah. Every difficulty we face, every moment of letting go, every prayer for their guidance—it all becomes part of our journey toward Him.

As I write this, my son is home from his first day, tired but proud. The umbilical cord of childhood may be stretching, but the cord of love, dua, and faith remains strong.

May Allah make our children the coolness of our eyes in this world and a source of ongoing good deeds in the next. Ameen.

What cords have you had to cut as a mother? How do you find peace in the process of letting go? Share your thoughts .