A Gift for Mom! 🤍

A 3 a.m. wake-up call and before I even step foot in his room, I know. I know the difference in my baby’s cries. This one isn’t the scared cry, it’s the sick cry, which is different still from the “I fell and skinned my knee” cry. I pick up my crying toddler, and my mom thermometer immediately alters me that he’s hotter than normal. There’s something so instinctual about putting your cheek up to your baby’s forehead and instantly knowing their temperature is off. 

It’s my job to know and remember each of their allergies. If their vaccines are up to date, and which antibiotic they had last. A mom’s mental record is more accurate than any medical file, I’m sure of it. 

It’s our job to be their advocate. To know when something is off with them, even when all the bloodwork and test run show nothing.

We know our children better than anyone else on the planet. We know when they are tired, or hungry, or needing space, or needing a hug. There’s a certain instinct that is created once you become a mom.

I may not have gone to medical school, I may not have gone to nursing school, but I can self-diagnose an ear infection, flu, hand-foot-mouth, and croup like it’s my J-O-B. Because it IS my JOB.

I’m made for this thing called motherhood. I am perfectly designed to be their mommy. I have been pre-wired to love each of my kids in drastically different ways based on each of their needs. 

So when I walk into our pediatrician’s office and describe their symptoms and suggest certain tests to be run . . . they believe me. When I tell them to swab for strep because I could tell by watching my son during his basketball game that something wasn’t right with him, they do it. When I tell them that one antibiotic doesn’t work on my child, they prescribe another per my request.

Because I know them. I’ve seen what works and what doesn’t.

I know how their little bodies react to certain medications. I know which ones are going to make their stomachs upset, and I know when it’s best to let their little bodies fight it off themselves.

I know the course of a typical stomach bug in our house, and I know when they’re so dehydrated that they need to go to the ER for IV fluids. I know when their breathing becomes too labored for their little bodies to keep up. I can recognize a concerning rash, know how to stop a nose bleed, and when to ask for help. 

I also know that mommy is often the best additional medical treatment. So although I do not possess a medical degree, I know my babies sometimes better than I know myself. 

Sometimes, moms are doctors too, just without the medical degree.

You may also like:

I Am Their Comforter Because I Am Their Mother

I Am My Child’s Advocate—and Other Valuable Lessons a Stay in the PICU Taught Me

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Michelle Tate

A native Texan, born and raised, I married my college sweetheart, and now spend my days raising our three young boys. In another life, I was an elementary school teacher, before diving deep in my true passion for my own babies and writing. My new children’s book, “Be” encourages kids to be the best versions of themselves while being accepting and kind to everyone they meet. Follow me on Facebook at Raising Humble Humans

Parenting a Child with a Disability Is Holy Ground

In: Motherhood
Child hugging mother

Some moments in motherhood stay with you. First steps. Preschool graduation. A first dance recital. And then there are harder times. The ones that do not make it into photo albums. The moments when the world feels too big and your child feels painfully misunderstood. When you are parenting a child with a disability, those moments tend to find you more often. This day should have felt like a win. My son had just met a goal in therapy. We walked out of his OT’s office smiling, carrying a page full of lopsided circles that had never looked more perfect...

Keep Reading

I Came Home With a Baby—and Lost Myself

In: Motherhood
Mother holding baby looking sad

I don’t think people truly believe me when I say I came back from the depths of hell after having my son. Birth is often portrayed as pure bliss. The moment a mother holds her baby and instantly falls in love. Life quickly returns to normal. Even in real life, new moms can look like they’ve settled into motherhood with ease. But what no one talks about is the ugly, incredibly hard side of it. Not every mom experiences postpartum depression, anxiety, or OCD. For some, it really is bliss. But for many of us, it becomes a fight for...

Keep Reading

He Doesn’t Always Need Me Anymore and I’m Not Sure How To Feel About It

In: Motherhood
Little boy playing with toys on the floor alone

There is a moment nobody warns you about. Not the sleepless nights. Not the feeding schedules. Not the endless cycle of laundry and worry that comes with keeping a tiny human alive. Those parts everyone mentions. The part nobody mentions is the moment you realize your child has started becoming his own person. And you are standing there watching it happen, equal parts proud and completely unprepared. My son is two years old. And lately he has been leaving the room. Not in a concerning way. In a he has somewhere to be kind of way. He will be in...

Keep Reading

We Keep Calling Her Confident, But She Doesn’t Trust Herself

In: Motherhood
Smiling young woman

I remember the exact moment it hit me. I was talking to a young girl, the kind everyone praises. She was polite, well spoken, respectful. The kind of girl people point to and say, “She’s so confident.” So I asked her a question I knew would reveal more than her smile ever could: “What do you do when something doesn’t feel right?” She froze. Not in a dramatic way, but in a quiet, almost invisible way. She looked down, shifted her weight, then looked back up at me, searching my face like the answer might be written there. Because she...

Keep Reading

I Knew Something Was Wrong, But No One Listened—And It Almost Cost Me My Daughter

In: Motherhood
Woman holding baby's head in hands

After the traumatic birth of my daughter, I searched for others who had experienced vasa previa, but most of what I found were support groups for stillbirth. It’s easy to understand why; vasa previa is one of the most preventable causes of stillbirth, and yet most people, including most pregnant women, have never heard of it. My daughter is almost three years old, and I still carry a complicated guilt about that: why did we get to be the lucky ones? I want to share my story—not to frighten you, but because awareness is the only thing that saves lives...

Keep Reading

I Finally Admitted I Didn’t Want To Be a SAHM Anymore

In: Motherhood
Mother and child silhouette

For most of my life, I believed becoming a stay-at-home mom wasn’t just a choice, it was the ultimate goal. The kind of life a “good” woman was meant to want. The kind of life that meant you were doing things right. I grew up surrounded by that message. In conservative spaces, in church circles, in subtle conversations about what a “real” mother looked like. Women who stayed home were praised. Women who didn’t were quietly questioned. I learned, without ever being directly told, that a mother’s highest purpose was to center her entire world around her children and her...

Keep Reading

I’m Not Really Sure How To Do This Teenager Thing

In: Motherhood, Teen
Teenager on phone

I was not prepared to be a mother of teenagers. Sure, I was warned by other parents about the difficult journey I was about to embark on, but I did not expect it to be this challenging. I remember these two sweet, innocent children who wanted to be with me all the time. Now they barely give me the time of day. How did we get here? Like many parents, we long to have that child who once, a long time ago, called us Mommy and Daddy and begged us to read them another story. Where are those kids I...

Keep Reading

Why Don’t We Talk About Jonah’s Mother?

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Woman standing over water

Praying for My Son Send a storm to stop him; Let his friends throw him out. May he drop to the deeps, But gently, please, Stubborn though he may be. If it could only take three days, How my mother’s heart would Rejoice in praise.  From the hell you allow him, Let him cry to you. Is not Nineveh and mercy Exactly what he knows He needs— A mercy on enemies He fears You will concede? Please let all the shade wither If his is an angry soul; Humble him and help him follow Where you would have his purpose...

Keep Reading

To the Mom Worrying She’s Not Doing Enough This Summer

In: Motherhood
Kids looking at lake in summer

It’s only the second week of summer, and, thanks to modern-day social media, I feel like I’ve already seen it all. Picture-perfect beach getaways, color-coded bucket lists, backyard neighborhood movie nights, you name it. And if I’m being honest, I’ve already caught myself wondering if I’m doing enough. More than once, at that. As a solo mom of two, I’m still adjusting to our new norm while trying desperately to delicately let go of any expectations tied to all of our past experiences…including summer vacations. I’m reminding myself that our summers won’t look like they used to. At least not...

Keep Reading

Your Worth As a Mother Is Not Defined By How You Feed Your Baby

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mother and baby stand by crib

I’m not breastfeeding my baby. I wanted to. And I was able to for the first several weeks of her life. But as the days went on, I could tell it wasn’t enough for her anymore, so we started supplementing. And sure enough, without warning, she began screaming through nursing sessions, but was satisfied with a bottle. And that’s when I knew what I needed to do. A similar situation also happened with my first. She didn’t gain her birth weight back on my milk alone, so I had no choice but to supplement right away. And before I knew...

Keep Reading