So God Made a Mother is Here! 🎉

I always imagined motherhood like white linen sheets and a crib at the foot of my bed. Like running a hand over my smooth, swollen belly. Like a flushed face and ice cream right out of the carton, talking about baby names with my husband, going spoonful for spoonful.

I always imagined ultrasounds and appointments, nervous butterflies as they searched for the heartbeat and quiet moments alone reflecting on how it would feel to lose a part of myself as I gained an entirely different world.

But becoming a mother was none of those things.

Becoming a mother was 8-year-old, hazel-brown eyes looking up at me in wonder for the first time in the middle of a small-town pumpkin patch. It was glasses and size five shoes. It was graphic novels and video games, snack wrappers and dirty fingers.

Becoming a mother was the first I love you whispered in a dark bedroom as an echo to my lullaby. It was signing a lease and realizing this home was more than just a physical place. It was the first time my voice caught in my throat as I said “my son” and realized I meant it.

I always imagined motherhood to be this enormous, yet far-in-the-distance decision. I thought, like the forward-thinker I am, I would have time to be ready, to be prepared.

I thought I would know what I was doing and be less afraid.

But becoming a mother was a whirlwind. It was a single choice—saying yes to a man and realizing that I was saying yes to a little boy, too. And yet, in a sense, it was unconscious.

As much as I had a say, my version of motherhood chose me.

And it’s different. It’s heavier—heavier, not in the sense of a burden, but in the way that what I carry is a far more precious load. I am no longer just me, no longer a single soul, single entity. I am attached to the ones I love and who love me. An invisible thread, wrapped around my heart redefining who I am.

This motherhood is re-stitchingit is a patchwork quilt of the family I chose.

And no, it’s not the swollen belly, not the spoonfuls of ice cream at midnight, not the flutter of a heartbeat I could watch on an ultrasound screen—this motherhood is more—this motherhood is mine.

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

Marisa Donnelly

Marisa Donnelly is a Midwest-born, West Coast-based writer, writing coach, editor, teacher, and bonus mama to a sweet 11-year-old boy. She's the founder of Be A Light Collective, a writing and editing services company, and the author of the poetry collection, Somewhere On A Highway. You can read her work on her parenting blog or website.

Sometimes I’m Jealous of My Husband’s Friendships

In: Friendship, Living, Motherhood
Two men sitting in back of pickup truck smiling with fishing gear

I see him pick up his phone and smirk. He’s quick to respond, his thumbs fly across the keys. It isn’t long before another notification grabs his attention, again he’s quick to reply. The dimples I adore flash across his face and the cycle continues. And it hits me. I’m sometimes jealous of the friendships my husband has with his buddies. They text each other about the simplest (and dumbest) of things. They ask each other how to fix things. They show each other ads on Marketplace for cars or lawnmowers or whatever one of them is looking for. They...

Keep Reading

Dear Tween, I Will Try To Remember You Little

In: Kids, Motherhood, Tween
Tween boy lying on back of couch cushions in front of a window

When I hold you, I will try to remember your tiny arms and tiny legs wrapped securely around me. When I see you crying, I will try to remember your scraped, tanned knees and how I could fix anything with a kiss and a Band-Aid. When you tell me to go away, I will try to remember how you reached for my hand to take your next step. When you answer me with silence, I will try to remember the nights you wouldn’t let me go without one more story. RELATED: I’ll Lay With You As Long As You Need,...

Keep Reading

I Became a Widow at 37; God’s Grace Sustained My Young Family

In: Faith, Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Mom and young daughter at sunset

After my husband soared to Heaven eight years ago, my three daughters and I found ourselves on an intense grief journey. I never imagined being a widow at age 37 when my girls were just 2, 5, and 8 years old. Despite the heaviness of grief, I knew God was near. And I longed for my daughters to experience His comforting presence too. That’s how we started chasing God’s glory together. We started with a nightly rhythm of watching the sunset together. We would step out onto our back patio or pull over on the side of the road and pause...

Keep Reading

A Mother Doesn’t Lose Herself—She Grows into Someone New

In: Grown Children, Motherhood, Teen
Son kissing his mother's forehead, outdoor photo

A part of us dies when we have a child. And we don’t mind at the time because the child becomes our world and fills the gap that was formed. And me becomes us and I is forgotten. We’ll get our life back one day. We’ll get our self back on track soon—perhaps when they are toddlers, or go to school, have sleepovers, or become teens. But we don’t. Because our life as we knew it has gone. It simply drifted away. And as much as we tried to cling to some small part, it crumbled as we touched it...

Keep Reading

The Miscarriage I Had Decades Ago Is Still a Tender Wound

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Sad feeling woman walking in early twilight

It’s funny how grief tends to bury itself in the recesses of one’s mind until it literally rises from the dead at some point and resurrects through the experience of others.  I did not know how traumatized I was when I lost a baby in 1993 through miscarriage, or what my doctor termed as a “spontaneous abortion,” until a friend recanted his wife’s similar experience to me. The hurt and denial of the past sprung back to the present rather quickly as if it was happening to me all over again. My husband and I couldn’t have been happier when...

Keep Reading

We Have a Lot of Pets and It’s the Best

In: Living, Motherhood
Collage of kids with animals, color photo

We are the house with a lot of animals. Yep, that one. Each time I call my mom to delicately mention we are thinking of adopting another pet, I am met with the same disapproving tone, “ANOTHER dog?” Let’s be fair, we are only shopping around for our third. It’s not that crazy, but I get it’s more than most. Oh, and we also have a horse. But hear me out . . .  My oldest son has autism and used to be terrified of our dog. She was patient with him, she kept her distance, and she slowly broke...

Keep Reading

The Grace and Grief of Being a Medical Mama

In: Faith, Motherhood
Hospital bed and IV stand, black-and-white photo

Medical mama—this title and this view hit me. It hits me at different times and in different ways, but it hits me, hard.  Some days, I crumble with thankfulness that God has such a specific plan for my sweet, golden, middle daughter, that He would make ways where it feels there is no way.  There are other times when it hits me with anger and bitterness because I can’t figure out why, in a world full of medical interventions, this is our “fix.”  It hits me.  In the wee hours of another night in the hospital, it hits me that grace...

Keep Reading

I Buried My Heart with My Baby but God Brought Me Back to Life

In: Faith, Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Woman in a sweater standing outside looking at sunset

Recently, my world felt as if it were crashing around me. I was so angry I think my rage could have burned a small village. Unfortunately, that rage was directed at God though I knew that wasn’t what I needed to be directing toward Him. He owed me nothing then, and He owes me nothing now; however, my heart was shattered, and for a while, it seemed as if my faith was crumbling with it. I stopped going to church. I stopped praying. I stopped all positive feelings and allowed myself to succumb to the pain and the anger. When...

Keep Reading

Dear New Mom, God Is Only a Whisper Away

In: Baby, Faith, Motherhood
New mother holding baby on couch, eyes closed

While we were waiting to adopt, I would wake up in the middle of the night panicky. My mind would wander to the thought of suddenly having a baby. With groggy eyes and a cobwebbed mind, I would ask myself, “Could I get up right now to go soothe a crying baby?” And then the insecurities would flood me as I thought through the difficulty of dragging myself out of bed to give milk to a fussy newborn. I didn’t know if I could.  With each application sent to agencies and social workers, the possibility of adopting a baby became more...

Keep Reading

Look beyond the Labels for What You Don’t See

In: Kids, Motherhood
Three kids sitting on parents' laps smiling

I’ve always said that labeling someone with high- or low-functioning autism, or any disability for that matter, isn’t ever truly accurate. You may see an extremely smart girl who seems “normal” but you don’t see everything. You don’t see how the noises hurt her ears. You don’t see how the bright lights hurt her eyes. You don’t see how hard she struggles to fit in. You don’t see how she struggles to understand the social cues. You don’t see how seriously she takes what you say even if you’re joking. You don’t see the struggles when she’s having an overwhelming...

Keep Reading