Who am I?

It’s a question that haunts me—the reason I’m awake at midnight typing this while the rest of my house is filled with snores and creased eyelids, heavy with sleep and dreams.

I’m a wife, I’m a mother. But who am I?

I was a teacher once, but not any longer. I am a friend, although at times I would admit, not a very good one.

Do these titles define me? Do they really even matter in the “who am I” wonderings of a darkened midnight house?

Once you lose your identity to motherhood, it’s a fight unlike any other to find it again.

I only know my pre-kid self from the pictures. My memories of her are cloudy and float in and out of my consciousness as if they were dreams. These two most beautiful years of my life have distanced me from the woman I used to be.

I’m desperate to find her again, and I believe that I will.

Somewhere beneath the piles of laundry and the stacks of diapers waiting to be taken to disposal, she’s there. Watching, waiting. I wonder if she approves of the new me. I wonder if it even matters what she thinks. I wonder if she hears my silent whispers at the end of the too-long hours: “Where are you?”

And so I’ll go on through the days; living, loving, laughing.

Gazing in the mirror just a little bit longer until one day, I can see her smile peeking back at me, the corners of her lips turning up in a familiar angle.

Maybe one day I’ll be singing as I rock the baby in my arms, and I’ll suddenly recognize that on my lips is a melody that she used to sing.

All at once, I’ll hear a joke and begin to laugh, but the tenor of that laughter will not be my own; it’ll be hers, ringing with carefree joy.

And then, during a night as dark as this one, I’ll slide my hand across the bed and take my husband’s, finding that the softness that was once between us has returned.

Little by little, my old self will come back to me.

And when I find her, I imagine she’ll smile and hand me a basket full of herself before turning to walk away, leaving me to carry that piece of her forward into the unknown. Merging our two spirits until I realize that I am her and she is me. Just as not all of her was good, all of the new me isn’t bad, either.

Maybe it’s not about finding the old me, but coming to love the new one.

I wipe butts, I wipe tears. I give spankings, I give bear hugs.

And I just know—she would be so proud if only she could see me now.

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

Casey Huff

Casey is Creative Director for Her View From Home. She's mom to three amazing kiddos and wife to a great guy. It's her mission as a writer to shed light on the beauty and chaos of life through the lenses of motherhood, marriage, and mental health. To read more, go hang out with Casey at: Facebook: Casey Huff Instagram: @casey.e.huff

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

Sometimes Our Teens Need Blue Box Love

In: Motherhood, Teen
Container with macaroni and cheese, color photo

Sometimes loving a teen looks like making new Kraft Mac & Cheese at 4 a.m. My oldest packs her lunch about every day. Her cooking skills are meek at best. Last night she came home in her own head after a ball game. However, she was determined to make Mac & Cheese for her lunch today. RELATED: Being a Teen is Hard Enough—Go Ahead and Take the Easy Road Once in Awhile After she made it with a little more coaching than she cared for, she leaked out it still wasn’t good. Her noodles were far too underdone. It was...

Keep Reading