Friday, May 2, 2014

Faith Filled Mommy Moments - The Lulliby of a Mother's Tears

Hi all of you cute mommies!  Today we are continuing the Faith Filled Mommy Moments series with a Guest Post from Asheritah the blogger behind onethingalone.com.  I'm excited for you to meet her... grab a bagel, a comfy blanket & stay a while!  


Faith Filled Mommy Moments is a safe place for moms of any religion to share their experiences on how their faith &/or beliefs helped them through a moment in motherhood. Because Heaven knows I need all the inspiration I can get!  I'm hoping this series will inspire other moms, help them draw nearer to their beliefs (whatever they are), & unite us all together.  If you are interested in sharing one of your stories in a post on this series, email me at michelle@trustmeimamom.com for more information.

I remember wondering how I was going to get out of the dark hole.

There wasn’t any one thing in particular that was wrong. Sure, the air conditioning unit was out and I was unbearably uncomfortable, but it was more than that. It was a deep soul-ache that caused everything around me to go black.

I knew that part of my despair was hormones, part of it was my milk coming in, and part of it was just a wacky time for my body. But that didn’t change the hopelessness of the moment. It did no good to say, “I shouldn’t be feeling this way.”

When you’re sweating, rocking a baby at 3am, armpits sticking to each other and back sticking to the back of the rocking chair, it’s hard to keep a grateful spirit.

I had the most precious gift in my arms, and there I was complaining about no air conditioning. In the grand scheme of things, I’m sure millions and millions of women have been uncomfortable postpartum in 90 degree weather and 85% humidity. Even though it wasn’t a pleasant feeling, I knew we wouldn’t die. But the meaning that I attached to the fact that we didn’t get the AC repaired earlier that summer magnified the situation and threw me into a pit of hopelessness.

The dark night can be a lonely place.

So I tried to list all the reasons that I had to be grateful:
My baby—my beautiful lovely newborn who made my heart explode with joy, whose name reminded me that we are called to be women of God’s grace
My husband—my wonderful high school sweetheart who never left my side through the pain of labor and talked me through every contraction and push
My health—second-degree tear and all, I knew I would be ok in the long run; we had made it through ok and someday I would regain my sense of sexuality
Our house—with or without air conditioning, we had a place to call our own, and that’s more than billions of people can do

I gradually switched from God’s gifts to His character: God is good. God is gracious. God is faithful to keep his promises. He is patient. He is love. In fact, he sent his son to death on a cross so that we could have a restored relationship with him forever.

I couldn’t imagine doing that as a parent. Giving up my precious little one for people who don’t care. People who gripe and complain about no air conditioning. And yet God did. The Father loved us and he did that for us.

This is the part where I tell you that the realization of God’s enormous love made me snap out of my pity-party. But that’s not what happened. I stayed in the dark, dark night long after it became morning, and I had to keep talking myself out of an infinite loop of despair.

In the middle of the night, where my mind would not follow, where my heart would not believe, my spirit kept whispering:

1 God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging. (Psalm 46)


And though there’s no air conditioning, and though I don’t get sleep, and my little one has lost too much weight, and it hurts to nurse, it hurts to sit, it hurts to walk. I don’t know how we’re going to figure out childcare. I don’t know what the morning holds. But amidst all that: God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in time of trouble. I clung to that truth like my newborn clung to her swaddle.

That’s what really happened: that’s how I fell asleep, tears still streaming down my face because my heart found it hard to believe the truths I turned over and over in my mind.


As I look at my darling eight-month daughter today, it’s hard to remember those nights of quiet desperation. They seem far removed, like a bad dream I want to shake off.

Nowadays, my baby and I trace carpet fibers with our fingers, gulp down water from a sippy cup, giggle at peek-a-boo games, and fall asleep together on the couch.

Those early days are like a haze now, but I MUST remember and we—those of us moms who have gone through the throes of postpartum depression—we need to come alongside new moms who are traveling that lonely road right now, put our arms around them, and tell them they’re not alone, they’re not bad moms, and they haven’t lost their way.

Because the lullaby in a mother’s tears in the dead of night are better than a hallelujah sometimes. 


Asheritah is a Romanian-American blogger who married her middle school sweetheart and now has a blast raising their daughter. In between loads of laundry, full-time HR work, and daily chaos, Asheritah blogs at onethingalone.com where she inspires women to sit at the feet of Jesus so they can dwell with him deeply, love others recklessly, and live their lives fully.

Find out more and connect with her on her blog, Facebook or Twitter.

2 comments:

  1. You made me cry! I remember those nights of my first born... And I look at him now, and my heart swells with gratitude to my Heavenly Father! He, Adonai, is my refuge and strength!
    Thank you for sharing your heart Asheritah!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Such a great post. It's tough in those first few weeks when you are sleep deprived and hormonal to stop and enjoy. This was especially true when I had twins!

    ReplyDelete

I actually really love it when you comment! ;)

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