I know motherhood is hard. Sleepless nights can feel endless. Pregnancy can be uncomfortable. Toddlers can push every button you have, and teenagers… well, they can test your patience like nothing else. I understand that some days you’re tired, frustrated, and just plain worn out.
But when I hear parents complain about their children, something inside me breaks. Because I would give anything to have what you have—yes, even the messy, loud, frustrating moments you sometimes wish away.
There are women who would give their whole world to be woken by a baby’s cries… because it would mean their child is alive and breathing. There are mothers who would treasure every swollen ankle and backache… because it would mean their baby’s heart is still beating inside them.
And there are women who would give anything—anything—to be pregnant at all. Women who have cried through negative test after negative test. Women who endure the heartbreak of infertility, longing to feel that first kick, to hear the gallop of a tiny heartbeat inside them, to have the chance to carry life within their body.
There are parents who would welcome every slammed door, eye roll, and stomped foot… because it would mean their child is still here on this earth.
I am one of those mothers.
Life is so precious—you just never know what each day will bring. This past July, in Texas, over 30 children never came home from camp. In a single day, dozens of families were forever changed, and more mamas joined the ranks of the bereaved. So, mama, before you utter a complaint… pause. Look around. Remember how blessed you are.
For some of us, “mama” is a word we carry in our hearts but can no longer hear spoken by little voices. Our arms ache for the weight of our child, but all we can hold is their memory. We dream of tantrums, teenage arguments, and even sleepless nights—because those things would mean life still fills our home.
As I lie here wide awake tonight, this has been heavy on my mind—something I’ve been trying to put into words for a long time. My biggest desire in life is to be called Mama, and right now, that future feels painfully out of reach. It breaks me when I hear stories on the news of mothers throwing their babies away like trash, or abusing the very life they were entrusted with. I can’t help but cry out to God, “Why? Why give those children to women who will harm them, and not to me? Why take my little girl?” I would have loved her fiercely. I would have protected her. I would have taught her about Jesus. I would have given her a safe and beautiful life.
So, dear mama, don’t you know how blessed you are? Before you sigh in frustration or let words of complaint slip out—pause. Look into the eyes of your child and remember what a gift it is to have them here. Feel their breath on your cheek. Let the sound of their voice—even in protest—remind you that they are alive, breathing, and still within your reach.
And if your child is still here, even if there’s distance, trouble, or brokenness between you—don’t give up. As long as they have breath in their lungs, there is hope. Relationships can be mended. Wounds can be healed. Hearts can turn around. Pray for them. Fight for them. Love them fiercely while you still can.
Children are a gift. Some of us have to love our gift from heaven’s side of the veil. Others love from across a painful distance here on earth. But all of us—every single one—would trade anything to have what you already hold.
So, mama… don’t ever forget—you are blessed. Cherish it. Hold it close. Because one day, those everyday moments you take for granted may become the very memories you long for the most.
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