"Motherhood matters in ways that I think our mortal selves can’t really comprehend. It’s not just for the joy that can be there, but for the challenge of it all that stretches us to the point of really needing God."
I love my children with a fierceness that hurts. My oldest just graduated high school, and my momma heart hardly knows how to wrap itself around the fact that my babies are leaving our nest. There is nothing in the world except my connection with God that brings me more deep joy than being a mom.
But just yesterday, I saw a man pushing a stroller and I got a sort of heavy, anxious feeling in my chest. I turned to my husband and asked, “How did we do it? How did we do that early stage of having three little children?” Being a mom of littles was hard for me!
Although I didn’t struggle with the kind of postpartum depression that leads to thoughts of harming a baby, the OCD that had almost left me as a single young adult came back with a fury the minute I found out I was pregnant, and I dealt with serious postpartum depression with at least my first baby.
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