essay on motherhood

When my son was eighteen months old, we took him to the park. When we got back home, he was limping. We called the doctor and took him in for x-rays.

And then a doctor's visit.

And then another doctor's visit.

And then more x-rays.

And then another doctor's visit.

And finally he was diagnosed with Perthe's. You can look up Perthe's if you want, but we're five years post-diagnosis, and he's almost outgrown it, and it's cost us nothing more than semi-annual x-rays and appointments with the orthopedist.

Oh, and my confidence that I could control what happens to my children. It cost me that.


I'll never forget the way my stomach tightened and my throat constricted, watching him limp the first time. All my vitamins and my healthy meals and my breastfeeding and there was something wrong inside my child that I couldn't fix.

Not to be all gloom and doom, but I could feed my child hummingbird dew and unicorn berries picked by hand and she could still get a cancer diagnosis. Or a dyslexia diagnosis. Or experience debilitating anxiety. Or be molested. 

Here's How I'd Change Things

I would give a lot for a world that let me input values to generate specific outcomes. It would be just fantastic, for example, if I could feed my child a special substance secreted from the glands of a little-known oyster that grows off the coast of New Zealand to ensure that he would never get cancer. I would pay a lot for that little oyster.

I'm not hear to argue about statistical outcomes; statistically, eat your vegetables. Statistically, stop eating crap. But mostly what I'm thinking, when I read about another way to prevent cancer, is that wouldn't it be great if I could find that oyster? 

Wouldn't it be great if I could keep bad things from happening to my children so I could be the one who molds their futures?

The Real Questions

Wouldn't they be better people if bad things didn't happen to them?

I hate bad things as much as the next person, but sometimes I think I fear bad things because my God isn't big enough to handle bad things. I keep reaching these points where I have to choose: either I believe God or I don't. Either I believe all things work together or I don't. Either I believe he's in charge or I don't. Either I believe he loves my kids more than I do or I don't.

Either I believe he can redeem and restore or I don't.

Turns out, I don't need fewer bad things; I need a bigger God. 

Support my writing by signing up for my email list. I promise not to sell you stuff you don't want. 

PS What you don't know about self-care here, and a better love story here.

I don't need fewer bad things; I need a bigger God // inspirational quote
FaithSarah Guerrero