I remember when my son was born like it was yesterday—a fussy, colicky, jaundiced, heat-rash bundle of baby boy. My baby boy. And I loved him more than I could have ever fathomed I could love anyone.

Today, he is on the brink of turning 15. He’s tall and slender and gangly. Long, skinny arms and long, skinny legs. A shock of curly blond hair on top of his head. Big hands and big feet. Braces make his grin shiny. The odd zit is a pop of red on his fair face, which still has a bit of little boy pudge to it, but with a manly jaw developing. 

He is a complete contradiction, 24/7.

He is shoving me (the embarrassing mom) away but pulls me close at times.

He wants to look cool in front of his friends but will still dance all goofy with me in the kitchen.

He strives for independence but admits he still needs help sometimes.

RELATED: He’s a Boy For Just a Little While Longer

He eats everything in sight but then tells me he’s still hungry.

He doesn’t want me to hang out with him but then asks me to come sit on his bed and chat.

He cannot wait for his driver’s license next year but is nervous and worried about it.

He knows everything but will occasionally ask me for advice.

He sometimes rages and yells at me but at other times, tells me he loves me.

His words and actions sometimes cut me deeply. He can hurt me more than he will ever realize. This boy-man, whom I carried for 9 months, whom I sacrifice so much for, whom I would do anything for, can slice my heart with his harsh words. 

His apologies, which come after he’s been left alone to stew and think, are genuine, remorseful, and touching.

I know this is normal. I know this is actually good. My son is growing up, flexing his independence, pulling apart from me, and focusing on his friends. This is all good. This is what is supposed to happen.

RELATED: Let Us Raise Boys Who Have Respect Running Through Their Veins

But where is my baby boy with the endless chatter and energy? My baby boy who would climb in my lap for the same story—over and over again—before bed? My baby boy whom I would rock to sleep while dreaming of who and what he might become someday? 

He’s in there still. I know it.

When he leans down for a hug, I see that baby boy. 

When he curls up on the couch next to me to watch TV, I see that baby boy.

When he excitedly shows me a TikTok video that makes him laugh, I see that baby boy.

When he asks for advice about how to deal with a blow-up with a friend, I see that baby boy.

When he tells me about his latest girl crush, I see that baby boy.

I pray he will grow up to be a well-adjusted, kind, responsible man who works hard. 

I pray he will be both a good husband and a good dad. 

RELATED: A Letter to My Future Daughter-In-Law While I Rock Your Husband

I pray he knows he can always dance all goofy with me in the kitchen or call me to chat. 

I pray he remembers his childhood fondly, and that he knows I did the best I could as his mom. 

I pray he always remembers just how very much I love him.

All these things . . . because he will always be my baby boy.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Carole Johnston

Carole Johnston has been married to her college sweetheart for 22 years, and adores her teenage son and daughter. When she isn’t working at a local college, she can often be found baking while singing the wrong words to popular songs. Her love of organizing products is matched only by her love of make-up. Carole has been published in Her View From Home, Sammiches & Psych Meds, Chicken Soup for the Soul: Curvy & Confident, The Metabolism Miracle, Fire of the Spirit: The International Library of Poetry, and Ignite News. Her hope is that her words will help others feel understood and less alone, and maybe bring some humour to their day. She would love for you to join her on Facebook for some @FamilyFunAndDysfunction

Our Home is Full of Laundry, Dishes, Dust—and Love

In: Motherhood
Dust on floor

My house will never be worthy of photographs. It will always have dust in the corners, a random piece of straw on the floor, and lacking that interior design spark. With a house full of kids and critters, you never feel caught up. There are dirty dishes and dusty tiles. Laundry, a floor that needs vacuumed, pillows that need fluffed. I hope that what it’s lacking in finesse, we’re compensating with love. Warmth, snuggles, hugs. A home-cooked meal shared with laughs even if it leaves the kitchen messy. RELATED: Welcome to Our Messy House—We Love It Here Fun times mixed...

Keep Reading

Dear Daughter, God Knew I Needed You

In: Motherhood
Mother with toddler daughter, laughing, color photo

Life sure knows how to throw surprises our way, doesn’t it? And you, my sweet daughter, were the absolute best surprise ever. Even though we thought our family was complete with your two amazing brothers, your unexpected entrance brought an extra dose of love and gratitude into our hearts. I can still vividly recall the moment when your daddy and I read the word “GIRL” while opening the gender test—we couldn’t believe it. We were going to have a daughter. We were going to have you, and we were beyond excited. Please, never think that being a surprise means you...

Keep Reading

This Time In the Passenger Seat is Precious

In: Kids, Motherhood, Teen
Teen driver with parent in passenger seat

When you’re parenting preteens and teens, it sometimes feels like you are an unpaid Uber driver. It can be a thankless job. During busy seasons, I spend 80 percent of my evenings driving, parking, dropping off, picking up, sitting in traffic, running errands, waiting in drive-thru lines. I say things like buckle your seat belt, turn that music down a little bit, take your trash inside, stop yelling—we are in the car, keep your hands to yourself, don’t make me turn this car around, get your feet off the back of the seat, this car is not a trash can,...

Keep Reading

To the Woman Navigating Divorce: You Will Get Through This

In: Living, Marriage, Motherhood
Woman with eyes closed standing outside, profile shot

On May 4th, 2023 I was delivered devastating news. My husband no longer loved me, and he wanted to end our marriage. This was the last thing I expected. I tried to get him to work things out, but he was firm on the decision that we were done. My heart broke for my children and what I thought I wanted for my life. As it turns out though, this separation and soon-to-be divorce is probably one of the best things that could have happened to me. It has given me a new appreciation for myself, brought me closer to...

Keep Reading

Sometimes God Sends a Double Rainbow

In: Baby, Loss, Motherhood
Two sacs as seen in early pregnancy sonogram

I lay on the ultrasound table prepared to hear the worst. While this pregnancy wasn’t totally expected, it was a miracle for me. I knew with the current stress in my life and the symptoms of a miscarriage, I may have to face another heartbreak to my series of heartbreaks over the last two years. I questioned what I did wrong to deserve it all. I prayed I had been stronger in my prior life: to have made better decisions. So I lay there, I held my breath, and I waited as the tech put the cold jelly over my...

Keep Reading

I Never Thought We’d Homeschool, But We Do and We Love It

In: Motherhood
Family standing together on street, color photo

Like putting sore, tired feet in front of the fire, homeschooling has brought rejuvenation to our hearts and household. We were running on caffeine and fumes far too long, and this past winter, I saw the light. There was a cold evening that brought me to such a low, I felt I wouldn’t live to see another day. I envisioned my tombstone reading, Here lies the bones of a mom who beat her head against the wall attempting to decipher fifth-grade math homework. I was afraid my relationship with my girl was starting to come down to three things: fighting...

Keep Reading

So God Made My Daughter a Wrestler

In: Kids, Motherhood
Young female wrestler wearing mouth guard and wrestling singlet

God made my girl a wrestler. Gosh, those are words I would never have thought I would say or be so insanely proud to share with you. But I am. I know with 100 percent certainty and overwhelming pride that God made my girl a wrestler. But it’s been a journey. Probably one that started in the spring of 2010 when I was pregnant with my first baby and having the 20-week anatomy ultrasound. I remember hearing the word “girl” and squealing. I was over the moon excited—all I could think about were hair bows and cute outfits. And so...

Keep Reading

Even Though You Left Too Soon, You Gave Me Hope

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Early sonogram image

This was the fifth time I’d seen those two pink lines letting me know that a baby was on the way, but I only had one child to show for it, so I’d learned to damper my happiness and excitement. Each miscarriage brought its own unique flavor—one was marked by anxiety, another anger, deep sadness, and then apathy. I’d learned not to get too close to a pregnancy, but this time I leaned into it in a way I hadn’t before. There was a tender and growing elation, and I felt immediate love and gratitude. Sure, there was no telling...

Keep Reading

A Big Family Can Mean Big Feelings

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Family with many kids holding hands on beach

I’m a mother of six. Some are biological, and some are adopted. I homeschool most of them. I’m a “trauma momma” with my own mental health struggles. My husband and I together are raising children who have their own mental illnesses and special needs. Not all of them, but many of them. I battle thoughts of anxiety and OCD daily. I exercise, eat decently, take meds and supplements, yet I still have to go to battle. The new year has started slow and steady. Our younger kids who are going to public school are doing great in their classes and...

Keep Reading

We Picked up Our Daughter’s Ashes Yesterday

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Mother holding decorative urn in baby's room, color photo

We picked up her ashes yesterday . . . our daughter’s ashes. Though the funeral home was only about an hour away, the trip felt like an eternity. I stared blankly out the window for most of the drive, somewhat calmed by the cocktail of medications I had been placed on and was brought back to reality only by the occasional pain searing through my abdomen. When we arrived, the parking lot was completely empty. Snow lined the edges of the lot, and the sun shone all too brightly. We had assumed the funeral director would be there to greet...

Keep Reading