Around six months ago, I sent my husband up to the loft to bring down a load of boxes.

I didn’t go up because I hate the loft and also because I was 7-months pregnant with our second child.

I waited at the bottom of the ladder as he sent down box after box of baby things. Neatly folded bodysuits and vacuum-packed handknits.

Over the next few weeks, I unpacked each box, washed, dried and folded everything up. Organized everything in the drawersa place for everything and everything in its place.

RELATED: Dear Baby, I Already Love You

This pregnancy had been so different from my first and despite a lot of uncertainties, one thing I was sure of was that I was ready. 

I knew what to expect from childbirth and those early postpartum days. I was more sure of my abilities as a mommy. I had the nursery prepared. I was ready. I knew what was coming.

And then came COVID-19. I did not know this was coming. I was not ready.

Every plan I had for our baby’s first year went out the window. Newborn photoshoots, family gatherings, baptism celebrations. They all disappeared overnight. 

Excitement was replaced with fear. Calm was replaced by anxiety. 

Instead of showing our new daughter off to the world, we were isolating and shielding her at home.

Instead of elderly ladies cooing over the stroller, we crossed to the other side of the street when we saw another soul. 

RELATED: Both of Our Worlds Are Upside Down So I’ll Hold You

Instead of curling up and binge-watching my favorite shows, I tuned in to daily government briefings and rising death rates. 

And instead of dressing my little girl in hand-knitted cardigans and frilly bonnets each Sunday and walking proudly into church with my growing family, she wore a onesie while we tuned in to a live stream of the Mass on Facebook. 

And so today my husband brought down some more boxes. Boxes full of the next size up. And I packed away the handknits and the bonnets that she has already outgrown but has never worn. 

And, mommas, my heart was heavy. And I cried.

I cried for the clothes not worn. And I am not ashamed to say that. Not because my baby didn’t get to wear a bonnet. No. I know we are blessed. We are blessed with our health, our family, our home. And I know there are mommas with hearts much heavier than mine. 

But I cried for what those outgrown clothes symbolized. 

I am writing this because we are always under such pressure to be positive. To count our blessings. To remember that things could be worse.

And although this is true, it’s still OK to be sad about the little things even if just for a little moment. 

RELATED: Postpartum Life in Isolation is Hard

So to the mommas of lockdown babies, remember it’s OK. 

Because you can feel sad and still feel grateful. Because you can “give thanks to Him and praise His name” and still pray for change

It’s OK to be sad about the cuddles not had, the playgroups not attended, the family not visited.

It’s OK to feel robbed of your maternity leave.

It’s OK to cry over the hand knits and church bonnets not worn.

It’s OK, sweet momma, it’s OK.

Previously published on the author’s Facebook page

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

Danetta  Powell

First-time blogger. Christian wife and mother. Sharing my thoughts and prayers on womanhood, motherhood, faith, and family.

I Wasn’t Sure You’d Be Here To Hold

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mother with newborn baby on her chest in hospital bed

I stood naked in my parents’ bathroom. Even with the tub filling, I could hear my family chattering behind the door. I longed to be with them, not hiding alone with my seven-month round belly, sleep-deprived, and covered in pox-like marks. For three weeks, I’d tried Benadryl, lotions, and other suggested remedies to cure the strange rash spreading over my body. No luck. By Christmas Day, my life had been reduced to survival. Day and night, I tried to resist itching, but gave in, especially in my sleep. At 1 a.m., 2 a.m., 3 a.m., the feeling of fire ants...

Keep Reading

No One Warned Me About the Last Baby

In: Baby, Kids, Motherhood
Mother holding newborn baby, black-and-white photo

No one warned me about the last baby. When I had my first, my second, and my third, those first years were blurry from sleep deprivation and chaos from juggling multiple itty-bitties. But the last baby? There’s a desperation in that newborn fog to soak it up because there won’t be another. No one warned me about the last baby. Selling the baby swing and donating old toys because we wouldn’t need them crushed me. I cried selling our double jogger and thought my heart would split in two when I dropped off newborn clothes. Throwing out pacifiers and bottles...

Keep Reading

My Second, It Only Took a Second To Fall In Love With You

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mother with newborn baby on chest, black and white image

You were the second. The second child who, as a mother, I wondered if I could love as much and as fiercely as my first. It’s true, I’m ashamed to admit. As much as you were so desperately prayed for, I was scared. So, so scared. I was scared I was going to fail you. You were the second. And already so loved. But, you see, your brother was my whole entire world. My everything. He made me a mother and gave me all the firsts. My lap was only so big. My heart was only so big. There was...

Keep Reading

Dear Helmet Mama, It’s Not Your Fault

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mom holding baby with helmet, color photo

I’m a helmet mama. It’s something I never thought I’d say, but there it is. And I’m not going to be ashamed of it. Of course, at first, when the doctor referred us to see a specialist for “flat head,” I thought, “Oh, please no. Not my baby.” I’ve seen those babies, and I’ve always felt bad for them and wondered how their heads got that bad. And I’ll be honest, I’d usually pass judgment on the mother of that baby. So how did I end up with my own baby having a helmet on his head? It’s called torticollis—and...

Keep Reading

Thank You to the Nurses Who Cared for My Baby First

In: Baby, Motherhood
Infant in hospital isolette, color photo

I wish I knew who she (or he) was and what she looked like. Was she young or older, experienced or just starting out? How had her weekend been? Was she starting or ending a work shift at 2:30 a.m. that Monday morning when they ran me into the surgery room? The first few days after my son was born, he was kept in intermediate care as we recovered from an emergency C-section that saved both our lives—his by just a few minutes. I occasionally managed to shuffle over to see him, but was pretty weak myself, so the nurses...

Keep Reading

Hey Mama, This Is Your Labor & Delivery Nurse Speaking

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mother holding newborn baby looking up at labor and delivery nurse and smiling

First of all, mama, I want to congratulate you! Whether this is your first baby or not, I am honored to be here with you through this experience. Before you ask me, no, I do not care if you shaved your you know what. There are plenty of other things I’m thinking of, and that is not one of them. I’m so happy to be here for the birth of you and your baby, but most importantly, I’m happy to be here for YOU. It doesn’t matter to me if you want to breastfeed, it doesn’t matter if you want...

Keep Reading

My Baby Had Laryngomalacia

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mother holding baby on her shoulder

Life’s funny, isn’t it? Just when you think you’ve got the whole motherhood thing figured out, the universe throws a curveball. And, oh boy, did it throw me one with my second baby. There I was, feeling like a seasoned mom with my firstborn—a healthy, vivacious toddler who was 16 months old. Our breastfeeding journey had its hiccups, an early tongue-tie diagnosis that did little to deter our bond. Fourteen months of nurturing, nighttime cuddles, and feeling powerful, like my body was doing exactly what it was meant to do. Enter my second baby. A fresh chapter, a new story....

Keep Reading

A C-Section Mom Simply Needs You to Hear Her Story

In: Baby, Motherhood
Newborn baby crying in doctor's hands

As an expecting mother, I was told all about the sleepless nights. People made sure to give their opinion on whether I should bottle feed, breastfeed, or exclusively pump. I was told which swaddle to buy, which sound machine worked best, and when to introduce a pacifier. They told me about sleep training but that it really didn’t matter because I wouldn’t get any sleep anyway. Whenever I would mention how scared I was to give birth, I’d always get the same response: oh. honey, don’t worry, your body will know what to do. I remember listening to calming meditations...

Keep Reading

Feed Them—and Other Ways To Help NICU Parents

In: Baby, Motherhood
Parents holding hands of premature baby in NICU

I’ve been thinking quite a bit about our reality as NICU parents to a healthy, brilliant NICU graduate. Our child was born very prematurely and spent weeks in the NICU so he could grow and stabilize. My first experience as a mother of a baby was shattered in so many ways. Trauma still lingers, but I am so grateful for all I have learned from our time beside our little baby in his isolette bed. One thing I learned was that some people who really want to help support NICU parents really don’t know how they can. Here are some...

Keep Reading

From Baby to Boy

In: Baby, Motherhood, Toddler
Toddler boy asleep with legs tucked under his belly

The sweet snuggles and sighs are slowly making way for more crawling climbing and exploring each day. And just when I think my baby is gone, you snuggle into my chest, convincing me I’m wrong. I watch as you excitedly chase after your sis and giggle as you share with me your slobbery kiss. RELATED: They Tell You To Hold the Baby, But No One Warns You How Fast He Grows Daytime hours bring playful adventures as I watch my baby leave, but then a sleeping bum curled in the air makes me believe that these cherished baby moments haven’t...

Keep Reading