When I was pregnant, everyone warned me how hard it was to be a mom. Friends, family, ladies in the grocery store. Side note: Does anyone else have the weirdest and slightly too intimate encounters with strangers at the grocery store? Is the produce section really the place that people have chosen to tell you what’s on their mind? There’s something about being pregnant that says to people, “I would love to talk to you!”

But anyway, almost daily someone would say:

• “You better sleep now, because you are never sleeping again.”
• “You better go out and live it up, because your life is about to be over.”
• “Your body will NEVER be the same.
• “You will never be alone again.”
• “Enjoy time alone with your husband because that is over.”

I wish this wasn’t the case, but moms with young kids are the worst offenders. Hear me out. This is frustrating to me because pregnant women are desperate for encouragement and direction. They are gazing out into the great unknown hoping that someone will guide them. And the people that could easily lift their spirits are doing the exact opposite: TERRIFYING THEM. We are speaking into their fears, and not in a good way. “Oh yeah? You’re afraid? YOU SHOULD BE. (insert intense knowing stare)”

Look, I’m all for honesty and authenticity. But, the ironic thing is that I don’t think moms are truly being honest when they give these warnings, because they aren’t telling the entire story. We are leaving out the beauty to the story, and that changes the entire narrative. So, why aren’t we telling our pregnant friends about the unexplainable joy that comes from being a mom?

Here are a few of my theories:

First, let’s state the obvious: being a mom really IS hard. No one in their right mind is arguing that. So, of course we are compelled to elaborate on our plight. You are sacrificing every day all day for these little people. They are demanding, needy, and ungrateful most of the time. They are requiring everything from you.

This is why there are so many “bad mom” YouTube channels and Instagram accounts. I watch them; I think they are funny too sometimes. Why? Because it’s so relatable. I find my self laughing like a maniac going, “Yes! Thank you! Spot on! I am not alone!” The chaos of motherhood can be so ridiculous that it’s comical, and people are making a decent living off that concept.

Second, I think as women we have a deep need to be acknowledged. It reminds me of the story in Genesis where Hagar has run away to the desert. She is pregnant and alone, and the Lord speaks to her. After God acknowledges her and speaks into her situation,

She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: “You are the God who sees me,” for she said, “I have now seen the One who sees me.” (Genesis 16:13)

We all want to be seen. And mothers are living in a world where most of the selfless acts they perform daily are seen by no one. Applying ointment during a diaper change. Sitting down on the floor to color a picture. Choosing to make the quest to the park instead of watching TV. Our days are filled to the brim with these little sacrificial acts.

In this sacrificial loop, we are so desperate to be seen, that instead of going to The God Who Sees Us, we settle for complaining and explaining our world and how hard it can be to whoever will listen. And sometimes expectant mothers are our enthralled yet terrified audience.

I would suggest that in the name of brutal honesty we’re failing to pass on something incredibly valuable to our friends: the glorious mystery the Spirit has revealed to us about being a mom.

1 Corinthians 2:11–13 touches on how, through the Spirit, God shows us his beautiful and mysterious heart:

So also no one comprehends the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God. Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, that we might understand the things freely given us by God. And we impart this in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit, interpreting spiritual truths to those who are spiritual.

I can only speak for myself, but I have a hunch that you might be able to relate, mama. When Nora was a newborn, I was so overwhelmed with love for her. It was like God opened up a door inside my heart and led me into an entire heart wing that I didn’t know existed. I was a little scared because the love felt so fierce and uncontrollable. It was wild and unrelenting. I started to see a tiny snapshot of how God says he feels about me. I knew I was wading into the deep waters of God’s heart. He wasn’t just telling me how he feels about me, he was showing me.

Confession: now that Nora is two, sometimes I miss her at night when she is asleep. I want to see her, so I start looking at pictures of her on my phone. I’ve even been known to go into her room late at night and just hold her, pray for her, and enjoy the feeling of holding my precious baby in my arms. I can’t imagine loving any one person more.

So, let’s tell THAT story. Let’s tell the FULL story.

Let’s stop describing in detail all the challenges and then throwing in a half-hearted “but it’s all worth it” at the end. Let’s be TRULY honest and admit that we are hopelessly in love with our exhausting children, and life is fuller and richer because of them.

This is my challenge to myself and to you, experienced mama, as you stare into the wide eyes of your pregnant friend: Bless her.

Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching. (Hebrews 10:23–25)

Check out my other posts in The First Year of Motherhood series about Sleep Deprivation, Making Peace with My Postpartum Body, and Going Back to Work.