Free shipping on all orders over $75🎄

“You’re gonna miss this . . .” 

I heard it all the time from other moms. From strangers at the store. 

As I was a harried mother of three under five, I would, just like every other mom out there, have people letting me know just how much I would, someday, miss the phase that I was in. 

I love my boys. I have from day one. 


I don’t miss having babies. 

I actually liked the delivery part of the parenting gig. Even with all the pushing and pressing and pain involved to get a human out into the world. Even with one being delivered via C-section. I can honestly say that I was happy to get to experience such an intense miracle. 


About two weeks in, each of my first two babies started to scream. Day in. Day out. It started as minutes. Into hours. It turned into days, weeks, months on end. They were fuming little men. And because they were, all three of them, welterweights at under five pounds each at birth, I was essentially nursing or pumping or syringe-feeding them every other hour of early motherhood in an attempt to keep them satiated and growing.

Our first nine months with each of them meant we were fairly tied to the house. They would rarely close their eyes throughout the day. They spewed fire spit after every feeding. And the screaming cycle would start again. And again. And again.

There were nipple shields, elimination nursing diets, alarms to wake up night after night for months, weight checks, every attempt to watch happiest baby on the block and a legitimate obsession with figuring out what shoooosh sound was supposedly going to turn my angry birds into happy chaps. 

I did not like being a mother to babies. 

I loved getting to have babies in order to be a mother. 


That was not, to date, my time to shine in motherhood.

I struggled for a long time with that. 

I felt like a failure. Like I didn’t possess a maternal bone in my body. I was sure that while I was apparently meant to be able to get pregnant and carry babies, I was not meant to actually be a mother. I watched mothers whose babies cooed and cuddled, giggled and smiled, and slept in the stroller as they chatted it up with friends or took a walk. And I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. 

Eventually, as all things seem to do, that time passed. We got into a groove. They began to gain weight. And at a year-ish, I was able to ditch the elimination diets and regain some bit of my pre-mothering identity. 

As they got happier and more content in the world, so did I in mothering.

But my reality seems to be holding strong: I just don’t miss it.

I don’t want them to grow up too fast, I don’t want to wish life and time away, but I don’t have a desire to go back to babies. 

There were, just like every part of motherhood, parts having babies that I did love. The snuggles when they were asleep. The first smiles. The tiny fingers. The wrinkled foreheads. And the squishy feet. But for me, all of those beautiful things came mangled up in a big mess of challenges. Challenges that I don’t know how I’d ever do again.

I’m great with having lived it all once. 

Because the spitting. The incessant screaming. The not knowing what the heck I was doing day in and day out. The massive deficit of sleep. That just was not where I felt as secure in my identity as a mom.

I am so lucky to be a mother to three boys. I am so happy to have them and know them as people. But I am also so happy to be out of the baby phase. And I so love the stages that come after the spitting stops and the sleeping starts. 

I don’t miss having babies. And while I love holding, staring at, and smelling the little wee ones of others, I also love, so very much, when I get to give them back.

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 now!

Order Now

Ashli Brehm

Ashli Brehm = Thirtysomething. Nebraska gal. Life blogger. Husker fan. Creative writer. Phi Mu sister. Breast cancer survivor. Boymom. Premie carrier. Happy wife. Gilmore Girls fanatic. Amos Lee listener. Coffee & La Croix drinker. Sarcasm user. Jesus follower. Slipper wearer. Funlover. Candle smeller. Yoga doer. Pinterest failer. Anne Lamott reader. Tribe member. Goodness believer. Life enthusiast. Follow me at

Brothers Fight Hard and Love Harder

In: Kids, Motherhood
Two boys play outside, one lifting the other on his back

The last few years have been a whirlwind. My head has sometimes been left spinning; we have moved continents with three boys, three and under at the time. Set up home and remained sufficiently organized despite the complete chaos to ensure everyone was where they were meant to be on most days. Living in a primarily hockey town, the winters are filled with coffee catch-ups at the arena, so it was no surprise when my youngest declared his intention to play hockey like his school friends. Fully aware that he had never held a hockey stick or slapped a puck,...

Keep Reading

Stop Putting an Expiration Date on Making Memories

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother and son in small train ride

We get 12 times to play Santa (if we’re lucky). This phrase stopped my scroll on a Sunday evening. I had an idea of the direction this post was going but I continued on reading. 12 spring breaks 12 easter baskets 20 tooth fairy visits 13 first days of school 1 first date 1-2 proms 1-2 times of seeing them in their graduation cap and gown 18 summers under the same roof And so on and so on. It was essentially another post listing the number of all the monumental moments that we, Lord willing, will get to experience with our...

Keep Reading

When Your Kids Ask, “Where Is God?”

In: Faith, Kids
Child looking at sunset

How do I know if the voice I’m hearing is God’s voice? When I was in high school, I found myself asking this question. My dad was a pastor, and I was feeling called to ministry. I didn’t know if I was just hearing my dad’s wish or the call of God. I was worried I was confusing the two. It turns out, I did know. I knew because I was raised to recognize the presence of God all around me. Once I knew what God’s presence felt like, I also knew what God’s voice sounded like. There is a...

Keep Reading

Go Easy On the Parents Who Refuse to Skip Naps

In: Kids, Motherhood
Two little boys and their sister walking down a gravel road, color photo

Greetings from a mom who is done with napping children. It’s great to have the flexibility during the day for longer activities, meeting friends for playdates, or day trips to faraway places. It’s a new life . . . the life without naps. The freedom to make plans and keep them. But not that long ago, I was something very different than the flexible, plan-keeping, up-for-it woman I am today. I used to be the mom who refused to skip my child’s nap. Yep, that one. Here’s the thing, for a lot of parents, It’s so much more than just a...

Keep Reading

My Heart Isn’t Ready for You to Stop Believing in Santa

In: Kids, Motherhood
Little boy standing in front of lit christmas tree

“My friend doesn’t believe in Santa anymore, Mom,” my son said out of the blue the other day. We were driving in the car, and when I met his gaze in the rear-view mirror his eyes searched mine. Immediately, my heart sank.  This sweet boy, he’s our first. Thoughtful and smart and eight years old. A quick Google search tells me that’s the average age kids stop believing in Santa, but as his mom, I’m not ready for that—not even a little bit.  I can still hear his barely 2-year-old voice going on about reindeer as we lay together on...

Keep Reading

Motherhood is a Million Little Letting Gos and Fresh Hellos

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother sitting with child on her lap by the setting sun and water

I missed my grocery-shopping buddy the other day. Mondays are usually the days my littlest and I knock out our grocery list. In the past, we’ve dropped the kids at school and then headed to the store. I grab a latte, and she chooses a hot chocolate. But that day, they were all in school. That day, she sat in her kindergarten class, and I went to the grocery store. Alone. A new rhythm. A changed routine. A different season. I listened to a podcast on the drive. My podcast. Then I grabbed a drink. Just one. I got the...

Keep Reading

Dear Kids, This Is My Wish for You

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother hugs three kids

To my kids, The world you’re stepping into is unlike anything I experienced at your age. It’s fast-paced, interconnected, and sometimes overwhelming. But within this chaos lie countless opportunities for growth and joy. My wish for you is that you find the perfect balance between embracing the modern world and staying true to yourselves. Change is one thing you can always count on. Embrace it because it’s often the motivation for growth. Embracing change doesn’t mean letting go of who you are; rather, it’s about evolving into the best version of yourself. Remember, you don’t need to have all the...

Keep Reading

Dear Daughter, Stay Wild

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother and daughter on beach, color photo

I can’t really put my finger on it. Or manage to find all the words. But there’s just something about that girl. Maybe it’s the way her hair sits tangled. Curled up at the end. The way she moves. Dances. As if everyone was watching. Or no one at all. RELATED: There is Wild Beauty in This Spirited Child of Mine It could be the way she smiles. With her heart. The way only she can. The way she cares, loves. For everyone. For herself. You see, she is beautiful in the way only wild things are. The way they...

Keep Reading

You’re Becoming a Big Sister, But You’ll Always Be My Baby

In: Baby, Kids, Motherhood
Pregnant woman with young daughter, color photo

The anticipation of welcoming a new baby into the world is an exciting and joyous time for our family. From the moment we found out we were expecting to just about every day since, the love and excitement only continue to grow. However, amidst all the preparations for the new addition, I cannot help but have mixed emotions as I look back at old videos and pictures of my firstborn, my first princess, my Phoebe—for she will always hold a special place in my heart. As the anticipation grows, my heart swells with a mix of emotions knowing we are...

Keep Reading

Cowgirls Don’t Cry Unless the Horse They Loved Is Gone

In: Grief, Kids, Loss
Little girls Toy Story Jessie costume, color photo

The knee of my pants is wet and dirty. My yellow ring lays by the sink—it’s been my favorite ring for months. I bought it to match Bigfoot’s halter and the sunflowers by his pasture. Bigfoot is my daughter’s pony, and I loved him the most. The afternoon is so sunny. His hooves make the same calming rhythm I’ve come to love as I walk him out back. A strong wind blows through the barn. A stall labeled “Bigfoot,” adorned with a sunflower, hangs open and I feel sick. I kneel down by his side as he munches the grass....

Keep Reading