Free shipping on all orders over $75🎄

When I gave birth to my son, my body was wrecked. Even though I had an easy pregnancy. Even though I (technically) had an uncomplicated delivery.

Looking at my baby’s sweet, sleeping face, I could almost forget about the pain and rest in the joy of this profound, unconditional love. But the minute I sat up, the minute I needed to go to the bathroom, the minute I started walking . . . I remembered. I grimaced. I whimpered. The pain of third-degree tearing and an episiotomy didn’t immediately dissipate.

It was weeks of soreness. It was my husband filling up spray bottles and drawing witch hazel baths (for soaking, not washing). It was taking pain medication and sitting in an almost lying down position because anything else was uncomfortable. It was nursing and snuggling and changing diapers with a dim awareness that I didn’t know how this new scarring would heal.

RELATED: You’re Allowed To Be Disappointed in Your Birth Story

I never regretted having my baby. I never regretted the pain or the tear. Going through labor and having our son forever imprinted in my mind as one of my favorite memories. It was awful. I threw up for three hours with every contraction. I pushed for three hours and wondered if it would ever end. But it was worth all the sweat, dehydration, and sweet blue-eyed gazes full of warmth and encouragement from my husband.

The second the doctor held our baby up so I could see him, it was worth it.

My son’s wrinkled, old man face squished in a squall as he marked his territory with a spray of meconium (first poop). At that moment, my husband and I were a family in a new, indescribable way. My heart overflowed in a deluge of sobbing smiles.

As weeks passed and healing slowly occurred, I learned riding a bike was a mistake. I discovered exercising, even months out, resulted in a soreness I never expected. Jumping jacks didn’t just make me urinate myself. They hurt. As I vented and complained and worried, my husband only ever encouraged.

I learned how to nurse, dream feed, and change diapers in semi-darkness. I learned there were times I had to let the baby cry if I was going to make it to the bathroom on time. I appreciated long hot showers for the decadent wonder they are.

Woven into all of our new struggles was a peace and purpose found in the sleeping face of our child. New motherhood is simultaneously a place of complete vulnerability and raw strength unlike anything else I’ve experienced.

Then came another hurdle after having our baby. You know, the PG13 kind. The kind mommas talk about quietly, wondering how bad it will be.

The kind we put off for what feels like an eternity because we’re scared and just not ready. The kind we both want and dread in turns.

RELATED: Sex – What We Aren’t Bringing to the Table

But here’s the thing. My husband was careful to let me feel desired and not pressured. He was intentional about making me feel beautiful. He didn’t ignore the stretch marks and flabby stomach, pretending I hadn’t changed. He praised what my body had done, lending his eyes to my own.

He didn’t expect IT from me. He didn’t expect me to be ready because we were married and having sex is part of being married and it had been X, Y, Z amount of time. Without ever saying it, he gave me the feeling of being anticipated. There’s a difference between something feeling expected and something feeling anticipated.

He wanted me so much he would wait for me to be ready. He looked forward to me. And that distinction helped me anticipate us, too.

It seared the support he had shown me in the delivery room to every day after. It reminded me it wasn’t just that he wanted or needed something from me, but he loved me.

Our imperfect, shared love remained the unchanging thread which bound all of our newness together. We were experiencing a new kind of intimacythat of bleeding and tearing and pooping and birthing. Birth had held no regard for my dignity, but in it we’d found a deeper unity.

No, birth isn’t easy. No, figuring out how your marriage bed looks after having a baby isn’t easy. There isn’t an all-consuming answer that fixes every problem, mitigates every fear, or eases every pain.

But there is this shared love between you. A baby who screams you are my comfort while our husbands are trying to figure out how to comfort us. Sometimes, we need to remember they just want to step in and protect us (their wives) from the little ones wreaking havoc on their bodies and destroying their sleep. Sometimes, our husbands just want to hold us instead. Sometimes, their innate need to protect narrows down to only you, and we have to help them see the whole picture. We’re all struggling and learning together.

RELATED: The Key to a Thriving Marriage Isn’t Sex—It’s Intimacy

To the parents who didn’t get to bring their baby home, I can’t imagine your grief or speak to your heartache. Your baby mattered. You and your baby still matter. The relationship you are forging with your spouse is valuable and important.

You are experiencing unity in a new way too, and I pray that unity brings healing. Grief changes us irrevocably, yet the bond you are forming amid your pain is one of unspeakable strength and beauty. In all its darkness, I pray you remember that you, your marriage, and your story, hold a profound worthiness no one can take away. 

We all need the gift of being gentle. With ourselves. With each other.

It won’t look the same. You won’t feel the same. It won’t always be beautiful or easy. 
But trust me, this season you’re in won’t be forever. When you’re tired and cranky and just want time alone, give yourself that space. Then go back and remember the love that started it all.

You have that baby because you loved him first. He wants to be with you because he loves you still.

You have that longing because your story isn’t over. It’s still being written.

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

Rachel Weidner

I'm a stay-at-home mom, work-at-home writer, coffee drinker, and book hoarder. I love taking pictures and eating chocolate. Writing helps me stay sane, so I blog about motherhood, marriage, faith, and everything in between. You can find me on Facebook at Forever Dreaming Writing by Rachel or on Instagram at @foreverdreamingwritngbyrachel.

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

Having Two Under Two Was the Best Decision I Ever Made

In: Baby, Motherhood, Toddler
Toddler and newborn lying next to each other on a bed

My baby was 14 months old when I found out I was pregnant with baby number two. He had just learned how to walk, still requiring me to walk behind him holding both of his hands above his head so he wouldn’t topple over. In other words, my baby was still very much a baby, and I couldn’t believe I’d be adding another baby to the mix. Excited, but mostly terrified, I researched and read more articles than I can count on what it’s like to be a parent of two under two. These articles more often than not use...

Keep Reading

I Thought Failure to Thrive Meant I Was Failing

In: Baby, Motherhood
Baby drinking bottle, color photo

Failure. That’s all I read. It’s all I saw. It was the only thing I could focus on. I’m sure the doctor said it at some point during the appointment, but it wasn’t until it was right there staring at me in black and white that it clicked . . . “failure to thrive.” I was officially failing my daughter. A couple of years down the road, I now realize how irrational and far from the truth that was, but at the time, it was all I could focus on. I wish more than anything that they had a better,...

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

New Mama, It Might Not Be Okay Now but It Will Be

In: Baby, Motherhood
New baby looking at camera, black and white image

It was 2:30 in the morning, I was sitting on the bed with tears streaming down my face, my 7-week-old son crying in my arms. Everything hurt—my engorged breasts, my cracked and bleeding nipples, my back where I had taken two epidurals. It hurt to sit, not only from birth but from the stitches, and I was tired. “It’s okay,” my husband said, rubbing my back in small conciliatory circles, but it wasn’t okay. When they placed my son in my arms for the first time I cried tears of joy, made promises for the future, bolstered by the love I...

Keep Reading

“Please Help Mommy to Be Patient, and the Baby to Stay Alive in Her Tummy.”

In: Baby, Loss, Motherhood
Toddler with hand on mother's pregnant belly

“Please help Mommy to be patient, and the baby to stay alive in her tummy.” It was my little girl’s daily prayer during my pregnancy. That prayer for patience—it stung a bit even though I had told her she could pray that I would be patient. It wasn’t necessarily that she or her sisters were testing my limits, but this pregnancy rage had gotten to be a real thing. If there is one thing motherhood has taught me, it’s that I can’t do it on my own. I need the help of my Heavenly Father, and I need others. I...

Keep Reading

I Know I’m Done, but I’ll Always Want Another Baby

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mother touches nose to baby's smiling face, close up color photo

I was sorting clothes into tubs to donate, consign, or keep for my 1-year-old, and I came across a newborn outfit amongst a bunch of bigger kid clothes. I had gotten rid of all of my 1-year-old son’s newborn and infant things last year, but he still seems small and baby-like to me, compared to my 5-year-old. But I’m telling you, when I held up that teeny-tiny outfit, my heart broke. It looked too small to be real. To fit anything other than a doll. But, it did. My older son wore it on his first Christmas. I know I’m...

Keep Reading

I Lost You Just as I Started Loving You

In: Baby, Loss, Motherhood
first trimester ultrasound image of baby

I didn’t know I was already losing you just as I was starting to love you. I didn’t know while I was so excited and hopeful for all the things to come, you were already leaving my body. And my heart. I didn’t know something like this could happen in what feels like both an instant and an eternity. That it would feel like it was just yesterday we saw those two pink lines and yet here we are, eight weeks later, without even an ultrasound picture to hold. I didn’t know how angry it would make me that life...

Keep Reading