Our Keepsake Journal is Here! 🎉

There’s an ill-mannered term thrown around carelessly that I can’t stay silent about anymore. Maybe you’ve heard it or maybe you’ve said it in passing: “OOPS BABY.”

PSA: Babies are not an “oopsie.”

They are also not any of the following terms:





I get it. I understand, truly. I myself am part of the estimated 44-49 percent of U.S. pregnancies that are “unplanned.” My mother walked down the aisle 8-months pregnant with me as I was an unexpected pregnancy for her and my birth father. She felt rushed into a marriage, hadn’t gone to college, and was living off scraps financially. She’s told me numerous times that I was big fat oopsie, but she loves me more than she ever thought she could. She simply got pregnant with a high school boyfriend.

RELATED: I Kept My Baby Even Though I Was 16

I myself took pregnancy tests before marriage and made countless poor choices. I dated the wrong people, was intimate with men not good for me, and forgot to take the pill several times. THOSE are the wrong choices.

Forgetting the pill was an accident. Being with the wrong man was a mistake. The end result of the actions—a baby—is NOT where we should be directing the negativity.

And I don’t want to diminish how a mother feels about her pregnancy or the road that led her to it. It’s vital that we are honest with ourselves about the timing, financial struggles, wrong partners, and the mindset it puts women in when having a baby.

RELATED: Dear Surprise Baby, You’ve Changed Our Lives

I am in no way taking away any of the hardship that comes with an unplanned pregnancy. But our children will learn about how we handled the “unexpected.” If you planned for something 10 years down the road, and it happened two weeks later, then it happened sooner than expected. Please don’t refer to the baby as an accident. An accident has strong underlying negative tones. Creating life isn’t the same as bumping the car in front of you at a red light. And “uh-oh” bears an even stronger connotation.

There are accidental circumstances, but—hear me loudly on this—there are no accidental babies.

According to Google, however, there are. And it’s not a pretty web search. “A baby that was created by accident, a mistake, and a regret the parents always have.”


I get so fired up hearing these words. They are a distasteful way to speak about your own child or someone else’s for that matter. If you absolutely cannot help yourself in describing the baby, I challenge you to say “unexpected.”

I hesitate even saying unplanned. Because God has a plan. He always does. God’s timing doesn’t always line up with what we hoped for, let’s admit. Things arrive years late, way too early, or out of the blue. But God has a plan. We just have to figure out the why. Remember, we are called to His will.

RELATED: Dear Surprise Baby, You Are the Best Miracle Ever

If I hear the term oops baby I’m going to grit my teeth and congratulate you regardless.

But just know, behind those gritted teeth, is a sadness I feel—because I too, was a surprise, and 30 years later, the term still cuts like a knife.

So I ask you on behalf of oopsie babies everywhere, respectfully, to please not call any child of God an accident.

There’s no such thing as an oops baby, as He intended for all of us to be here.

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

Jennifer Bailey

Stay at home mom enjoying one little boy and navigating parenting one trip to Target at a time.

It’s More Than a Crib Once It’s Held Your Babies

In: Baby, Motherhood
White crib in baby's room, black-and-white photo

It’s just a piece of furniture. Maybe. But to a mom who has laid three babies down in it over seven years, it is so much more. It’s everything. I remember the day I found out I was pregnant with my first child, I didn’t know yet what we were having, but I knew I could start planning the nursery. I didn’t want to paint yet . . . until we knew. So we started looking at furniture, the chair you would be rocked in, the books to adorn your ever-growing collection, the dresser to house the ridiculous amount of...

Keep Reading

Never Forget How Much I Love You

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mother holding nursing newborn, black-and-whte photo

I see us here. In our spot. You and me. And I’m overwhelmed with thankfulness. A gratitude that grows because I have what I’ve watched others long for. And even for some who I love, I’ve watched them lose. Two times now, I’ve become a mama. Two healthy pregnancies, two drama-free, full-term deliveries, and two perfect princesses, we’ve welcomed into this world. In utero, they voiced concerns. Yet with every ultrasound and appointment, we got good news. You were perfection. Just two short months after this photo was taken, I found a spot in that very breast nourishing you. I...

Keep Reading

This is the Bittersweet Goodbye to the Baby Years

In: Baby, Motherhood, Toddler
Little girl pushing toddler brother in baby swing, color photo

Last August, I had my last baby. Oof. Even typing those words makes my heart ache. There’s something so final, so sad, so unreal about acknowledging the end of having babies. Maybe it’s because I’m the type of person who likes to keep all the doors open. I love possibilities. I hate goodbyes. And this, my friends, feels like a very hard goodbye. When I think about being done having kids, it feels like a goodbye to the baby years. For six years now, all I’ve known is the baby years. And while the baby years can drain me and...

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

When Your Baby becomes a Big Boy

In: Baby, Motherhood, Toddler
Toddler boy smiling with hoodie on

My son recently learned how to climb out of things, so I asked my husband to take the side off the crib to convert it to a toddler bed today. I snapped one last picture of my son in his crib before I hurried off to get him dressed for school. As I got to work, I saw my husband had sent me a text of the transformed crib, and it just about killed me. I know, I know . . . what even changed? It pretty much looks the same. But it’s more than just the side of the...

Keep Reading

I Know This Baby Is Our Last and It’s Bittersweet

In: Baby, Motherhood, Toddler
Woman snuggling baby by window

Three is our magic number. It always has been. It feels like the perfect number of kids for us. Everyone who belongs around my dinner table is here. Our family is complete. And yet even though my family is complete, I still find myself grieving that this is our last baby just a little bit as I pack up the teeny, tiny newborn onesies and socks. I’ve folded up swaddle blankets that saw us through the all-nighters of the newborn phase, ready to be passed along to a new baby in someone else’s family. But they won’t be swaddled around...

Keep Reading

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