Our fall favorites are here! 🍂
Today, I walked into my 20-week anatomy scan alone. Before I kissed my husband and daughters goodbye this morning and walked out the door, I shut myself in the bathroom and had a good, ugly cry. Because honestly, I was sad. And scared. And angry that this is the reality of our pregnancy right now. We have a coronavirus pregnancy and, quite frankly, it stinks.
You might be thinking to yourself come on, it’s just an ultrasound . . . who cares? Or, the baby wasn’t actually being born . . . what’s the big deal?!
(And to the mamas out there delivering babies right now without their partners by their sides . . . my heart aches for you.)
It’s a big deal when you have a history of getting scary, life-altering news at ultrasounds. It’s a big deal to sit in that room with a stranger and find out the gender of your baby if you don’t already know. It’s a big deal not to have someone to share that moment with . . . a moment that you never get to live again. It’s a big deal for first-time mamas and mamas who are a few babies in. Because every baby is different, every pregnancy is unique, and you want your partner there . . for all of it.
Today was a hard day. I feel like “isolation” has become more than just a word in our current culture—it has become a central tenant of our lives, even if temporarily. And today I felt it to my core.
But tonight, I’ve realized something . . . something that changes everything.
My mama—she drove 5½ hours to stay with us and go with me to my appointment, knowing she couldn’t set foot in the building. She just drove me the hour and a half to get there and sat out in the parking lot and waited.
My husband—he was at home taking care of our daughters, thinking about me and our baby boy every second until he heard from us that everything was OK.
My friends—oh my goodness, my friends. They showed up in a big way. They sent kind words and comforting reassurance. They provided solidarity and support. They paused in their day and prayed for me. And they reminded me I was not alone.
And they weren’t just saying, “You’re not alone because we’re with you.” They were saying, “You’re not alone because HE is with you.”
“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9).
“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand” (Isaiah 41:10).
“The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing” (Zephaniah 3:17).
“The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth. He fulfills the desires of those who fear him; he hears their cry and saves them” (Psalm 145: 18-19).
So mama, in case you’ve forgotten I want to remind you—you are not alone.
And not only are you not alone—you were made for this.
You were made for this moment, this time, this trial by the Creator of the universe. He chose you. And He is with you. And you were made for this.
All I can do is make it to church today. It was the final thought that shut the door on all the other thoughts this morning. The thoughts that said I don’t look good enough. I should put on makeup. I should wear something nicer. I should find a way to paint my nails without them getting smudged up from holding a baby before they dry. The thoughts that said I am not doing good enough. I should have made supper last night. I shouldn’t have used that glass pan that shattered in the oven while trying to steam bake...
As millennial women and mothers, we have been making waves in the sea of mental health. We have unashamedly and unapologetically shared our postpartum depression and anxiety stories so that future generations won’t feel as though they’re drowning in the weight of it all. I remember sitting in my living room, staring at my newborn, crying in frustration and fear that I was already failing him. I remember the pain of trying to use the bathroom for the first time after labor, to have family suddenly stop by, and feeling so embarrassed I screamed and they left, ultimately leaving me...
We were having a hard morning. Our house was overrun with toys, I hadn’t had a chance to get dressed, and my stress level was increasing by the minute. To top it all off, my 3-year-old was having a meltdown anytime I spoke to her. Even looking in her general direction was a grave mistake. It was one of those days that as a parent, you know you’re really in for it. I was quickly losing my patience. My frustration began to ooze out of me. I snapped orders, stomped around, and my attitude quite clearly was not pleasant to...
My firstborn spent a semester abroad in his junior year of college. Like any mom who’s separated from her child, I knew the exact distance between him and me those months he was away. It felt like a million miles, but it was actually only 4,533, including one very large body of water. While he was away, we weren’t even on the same continent, and truthfully, I hadn’t expected the ache to be so overwhelming. Thankfully, our weekly chats on video eased the sadness and served to remind me that, in spite of miles and time zones, there was no...
I feel the warmth radiating from my weeks-old baby girl’s body onto my lap. She sleeps soundly. But I can’t. My jaw is clenched, my forehead is wrinkled, my body is tense. I’ve been in complete survival mode. Our baby girl unexpectedly made her appearance one month early due to some placental deficiencies and was born at three and a half pounds. I wasn’t prepared. When I saw my sweet girl, my heart was instantly taken over by immense love and immense fear. Fear grabbing me with every thought, every breath. I wasn’t prepared. She spent some time in the NICU but not...
Tonight, our family watched a movie together. It was an action-adventure movie where, against unbelievable odds, the good guy saves the day. At some point during the movie, I turned to my husband, and said, “You’re that guy—the guy that is good in a crisis, who saves the day.” Once, when my husband and I were out for dinner, a woman seated near us fainted and was lying on the floor. The waiters and waitresses ran to her aid but didn’t know what to do. My husband is a firefighter/EMT. He had gone outside to grab a sweater, and when...
I’m no longer the last person he says goodnight to. That’s a hard pill to swallow. Here we are, just raising these boys, hoping and praying things over their futures, watching them grow, teaching them independence and other life skills, hoping they have heard the things we have said, and praying they make our faith their faith and choose to follow Jesus. And then, just like that, without any warning, without asking my permission, there is someone special in his life. Someone he spends hours on the phone with. Someone he wants to spend his time with. Someone who isn’t...
As my kindergartner came bounding through the door back from the park, she seemed ecstatic to tell me all about her adventure, but what came from her sweet mouth was not the usual tale of making friends or playing make-believe. Instead, she stared up at me and said, “A little boy called me ugly.” As I tried to assess her thoughts on the matter, her big brother was quickly confirming the story and acknowledging to me that it was not a very nice thing to say. As I looked at my husband coming in the door behind them, I could...
I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I have nearly four teens now, and I’ve learned a lot the hard way. I see other parents around me who are just getting to that stage make the same mistakes I did, so I want to share what I’ve learned: If you want to teach your kids to walk in the way of God, you better not leave out teaching them about forgiveness. That’s a big deal to God. It’s pretty central. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, and the heaviness that comes when you have teenagers, and they...
My baby is going to kindergarten, and I am not going to cry. Yep, you read that right. My blessing baby (aka surprise addition) is going to kindergarten in seven days, and I am not a weepy crying mess. My kind quiet 10-year-old is starting his last year of elementary school, and I am not going to cry about that either. And my firstborn—the tiny, five-pound baby girl who made me a momma—will be in eighth grade. Her last year of middle school before high school. It all seems like big changes and big moments. But I am not going...