I didn’t plan on writing about motherhood. Not this month, not in May, not around Mother’s Day, when timelines are flooded with picture-perfect tributes and curated posts about what it means to be a mom.

But then I asked a few women I appreciate to quietly share their stories with me. Not the polished ones. The real ones. And before they could even respond, I found myself reflecting on my own unspoken journey. I’m not a mother. I’m in my mid-thirties, not married yet and, I have a dog, LOL. But, once upon a time, I used to picture a life so different from the one I’m living now.

“Many plans are in a man’s mind, but it is the Lord’s purpose for him that will stand (be carried out).”
— Proverbs 19:21 (AMP)

I remember being a little girl, 7 or 8, cradling a doll in my arms as if she were mine. I imagined feeding her, caring for her. Not as a babysitter but as a mother. I never thought about labor or delivery, only about the sweetness of holding someone that belonged to me.

As I grew older, the picture became more vivid. In my twenties, I imagined my husband rubbing my belly during pregnancy, warming bottles in the middle of the night, painting the nursery. I imagined a home filled with the smell of baby lotion, the sound of little feet, the clutter of crayons and high-pitched laughter.

But something shifted. Slowly, quietly, life took a different turn. My faith deepened, and so did my understanding of what it meant to build a family under God’s covering. And then somewhere in my thirties, I let the dream go. Not out of bitterness, not even sadness, just acceptance. A release. I stopped seeing it for myself, stopped picturing it. And I made peace with that.

“And the peace of God [that peace which reassures the heart, that peace] which transcends all understanding, stands guard over your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
— Philippians 4:7 (AMP)

Still, I wanted to honor the journey—mine and theirs. Because the road to motherhood isn’t a single path. It’s winding. It’s quiet. It’s loud. It’s full of detours and miracles and heartbreaks. It doesn’t always end with a baby in your arms. But it always starts with love.

These are pieces of that love.

Shared anonymously. Held reverently. Offered softly.

“She opens her mouth in skillful and godly wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.”
— Proverbs 31:26 (AMP)

I asked each woman the same set of questions, open-ended invitations, really. Not every answer came easily. Some were written through tears. Others in quiet late-night moments once the kids had gone to bed. Some offered paragraphs. Some gave me fragments. But every word was rooted in truth.

Here, in their own voices, are glimpses into their journey of longing, loss, joy, fear, and faith. These aren’t meant to represent all women. Just a few. Women whose stories matter. And who said yes to being known, even in anonymity.

🌼 She Burst Forth

From fear and infertility to fervent prayer and the surprise of new life, this story traces a mother’s spiritual awakening through her first child—and the quiet ways God formed her through it all. Read her full story here

🌸 Every Tear Was Held

Years of waiting. Miscarriage after miscarriage. Through silence and heartbreak, she clung to God's love. Now she holds her children close—miracles born from years of whispered prayers.
Read her full story →

🌷 Interrupted, Then Held

She didn’t think she was ready for motherhood, and maybe she wasn’t. But God’s plans unfolded faster than hers. Through the joy of surprise, the grief of miscarriage, and the gift of more children, she came to see motherhood as ministry.

Read her full story →

🕊️ Mothering the Child Within

A woman reflects on becoming a young mother, navigating judgment, survival, and grace. Through faith, she learned to care not only for her children but also for the young girl within her, one who never had a childhood. Her healing came through God, self-compassion, and rediscovering joy through baking, travel, and nurturing others.

Read Her Full Story Here

🌿 Still Their Mother

From unexpected beginnings to the ache of sacred loss, this story reflects on what it means to mother both on Earth and in Heaven, and how God's steady love carries us through every season.
Read her full story here →

And then, there are those still waiting, those in the space between hope and fulfillment. Some dating. Some engaged. Some unsure. I asked them, too, not for a full story, just a word, or a sentence:

🌾 To Be a Mother One Day… Maybe

“I never imagined motherhood without a husband. But I’ve always mothered, just in other ways. I’ve invested in children, dreamed of adoption, and nurtured life wherever I could. And if God gives me the chance to hold a child of my own, I’ll say yes. But if not—I’ll still be whole.”
Read her full reflection →

🌱 Nurturing Was Always There

“I’ve always been nurturing, but life made me hesitant. For a while, I didn’t want a husband or kids. I didn’t feel safe enough to hope. But God is softening my heart again. And maybe—just maybe—He’s preparing me for the very thing I once thought I couldn’t have.”
Read her full reflection →

All stories are shared with permission. Please do not copy, repost, or reuse any part of this writing without the authors’ express consent. These voices are sacred—handle with care.

After the Hope, Before the Answer