Navigating custody transfer days

There’s a particular kind of quiet that settles over the house after I drop my kids off for their week with their dad.

It’s not peaceful. It’s not restful. It’s a hollow kind of quiet; one that echoes through their empty rooms and lingers in the air where their laughter used to be.

Today was one of those days. The transfer didn’t happen in the morning like I expected. Their dad asked me to keep them for an extra day, and I spent the whole morning bracing myself emotionally, only for the hand off to come much later than expected. By then, I was already full of anxiety. The sadness crept in and settled like a fog, dulling everything. Even the pedicure I’d booked, something I normally enjoy, felt flat. I was distracted and unable to fully be present in the moment.

While I sat there, mind full of thoughts I realized: You can make peace with the end of your marriage and still grieve the way it rearranged your motherhood.

I also realized that I’d severely underestimated the grief that comes with splitting time with my children. I feel depressed when they leave. I feel guilt that they have to shuttle between two homes. I feel anxiety about seeing my ex. I feel robbed of the version of parenthood I thought I’d have.

I know I’m not alone in this. But it often feels incredibly lonely.

I logically know I did everything I could to prevent this outcome. But emotionally? I sometimes feel like I failed my boys by not giving them the “normal” life of two parents under one roof. And even though I believe both their father and I should be in their lives, there are days I ache for more time with them—because I know the kind of mother I am and how safe, loved, and seen they are when they’re with me.

This is the work no one prepares you for. The quiet. The missing. The guilt. The knowing it’s right, but wishing it were different.

I don’t know if transfer days will always feel this way. I hope not. Instead of pushing through or pretending I’m okay, I know it’s better to hold space for the sadness and care for myself in the process. I created this Custody Transition checklist to help me be more grounded and ensure I have a solid plan for those tough days.

Note to my fellow co-parenting moms…

Mothering across households is not for the faint of heart. It requires grace, softness, and the courage to feel it all. If you’re walking this path too, I see you. You are not weak for grieving. You are not selfish for wanting more time. You are a mother learning how to love through the spaces between. And that is something worth honoring.