If you like Her View, you'll love our new book, So God Made a Mother. Pre-Order here ➡️

Earlier this week, my phone buzzed with happy news. One of my friends had just given birth to a beautiful, healthy baby. Infatuated with her new bundle (as she should be), I was greeted with pictures of newborn snuggles and word that mom was practicing breastfeeding. 

Tears began to flow. First, they were joyful tears. One of my very best friends had just become a mama to a healthy, happy baby girl! What a wonderful gift.

Then, quickly, those same happy tears turned to long, sad sobs. 

Because this experience, the one that involves skin-to-skin snuggles and breastfed bonding is foreign to me.

I know nothing about that. I cannot relate.

I don’t know post-delivery snuggles. I know waiting two days to snuggle. 

I don’t know breastfeeding within hours of delivery. I know breast-pump anxiety and unfamiliar, sterile parts. 

RELATED: Your Heart Never Truly Leaves the NICU

I don’t know sleeping by your newborn. I know returning to a hotel room, baby-less. 

I don’t know discharge with a 2-day-old. I know discharge with a 2-month-old. 

I don’t know anything about these things, but oh, my heart yearns for them

My heart yearns for them in a time when I should be experiencing pure, unequivocal joy. And as envy begins to coexist with support, one question begins to prevail . . .

What do you do when someone’s good news coincides with your trauma?

Your friend posted a picture of her wedding day. She was glowing as her father walked her down the aisle. Your father passed away last year. He will never walk you down the aisle.

Your cousin just announced her pregnancy. She is having twins. You just received your fourth negative pregnancy test . . . this year.

Your neighbor just posted a picture of her weight loss. She’s down 50lbs, and she looks great. You have been battling depression, and the sweets in your pantry have never looked more appealing. 

How do you navigate their happy news when it feels suffocating, when you are buried underneath your own grief?

Sister, you recognize that healing takes timeit’s a process, and it’s often a long, hard, and winding one. Some days you feel completely at peace, and others you are certain you could fall apart at any given second.

There are no timelines for trauma.

You validate your feelings. You acknowledge that these feelings don’t make you a bad friend (or cousin or neighbor)–they make you human. They make you someone who is dealing with pain, who is healing from trauma. They make you a person who is doing her best, who understands that her best will look a little different each day. 

RELATED: Tragedy Changes You, But it Doesn’t Have To Ruin You

You lend support on the good days and give yourself space on the hard days. You engage when you have the capacity and give yourself grace when you do not. You find balance, whatever that looks like for you.

And finally, you fall to your knees.

You fold your hands. You talk to your Heavenly Father, and you pray–for peace, for comfort, for grace. You let Him hold you close, and you trust Him to lead you in these painful, suffocating moments. 

What do you do when someone’s good news coincides with your trauma? You move forward with small, but significant steps. You put one foot in front of the other–one day, one hour, one second at a time. And you recognize that it is enough. 

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available for pre-order now!

Pre-Order Now

Megan Neisius

Megan is the mama of a vibrant, determined 1-year-old. She spent the first seven weeks of motherhood in the NICU, an experience that shaped a new perspective on life. When she is not chasing her toddler or searching for NUKs, she is spending time with her husband, binging the latest true crime documentary and snuggling their dog. 

Dear Friends Having Babies, I’m Happy For You Through My Pain

In: Baby, Friendship, Grief, Loss
two friends with arms around each other at sunrise

To my friends having babies: you are not my trigger. The past six months have been challenging for my family. We live in beautiful, but sometimes overwhelming, chaos. Our 2-year-old is strong-willed and, when left unattended for a moment, has figured out how to scale the walls and swing from the ceiling fan. OK, so maybe that was a bit dramatic. More like shoving plastic Christmas berries up his nose, but you get the picture. Close behind him is our beautiful-yet-sassy 1-year-old redhead. And let me tell you, redheads do indeed have an attitude to be feared.  Along with our...

Keep Reading

You Are Allowed To Grieve Loss—Even if Other Parts of Your Life Are Good

In: Grief, Loss
Child hugging mother

“But some people can’t even have kids. I have three. Maybe I’m selfish for wanting one more.” These words came from a woman who, halfway through her fourth pregnancy, was told her sweet baby no longer had a heartbeat. She was preparing to deliver a baby she wouldn’t get to keep. She had begun the process of telling loved ones that her baby had died, including her living children. “I should just be grateful I have them,” she said. “You are allowed to grieve your loss even if you have good things in your life,” I told her. “Even if...

Keep Reading

God is For Me

In: Faith
God is For Me www.herviewfromhome.com

God is for me. In my anxiety and worries, He embraces me with a love that holds no fear. The purest form of love there is, and a love I have immediate access to. In my doubts, when I’m feeling like I’m not good enough or will never amount to anything, He reminds me that He isn’t even close to being done with me. He has more in store for me than I can imagine. In my shame He lifts my chin and tells me I’m not my past, that I’ve been made new. In my exhaustion He is my...

Keep Reading