The Stillness That Feels Heavy
The middle-of-the-night hours look different when you’re a mom — especially in postpartum recovery. The world is quiet, but your body isn’t. The C-section scar aches. The fatigue is bone-deep. The baby cries again just as you start to drift off, and the cycle begins anew.
Add in the other children — the bad dreams, the sniffles, the extra snuggles — and it’s no wonder you feel like you’re running on fumes. These are the hours no one posts about, the ones that stretch you thin and test your strength.
And yet, they are sacred.
The Beauty in the Exhaustion
I understand now why people say parenting is easier in your twenties — the energy, the bounce-back. But at almost forty, I see something different. I see gratitude. I see perspective.
After nearly losing my life from a hemorrhage, I don’t take these hours for granted. Yes, they’re exhausting. Yes, my body is still healing and my iron is low. But I’m here. I’m alive to hold this child, to feel the weight of her in my arms, to hear her soft breaths against my chest.
This is my last baby. These nights won’t come again. And even through the tears and the ache, I feel God’s presence in the quiet.
The Tenderness of God in the Night
When I rock my baby under the soft glow of the lamp, I think of how God watches over us with that same tenderness. Isaiah 40:11 says,
“He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young.”
That’s what He’s doing for me right now — carrying me, leading me gently through this season of sleeplessness, recovery, and emotional overwhelm.
The Shared Struggle
If you’re a mom walking this same road — exhausted, sore, emotionally stretched — know that you are not alone. God sees your sacrifice, even when no one else does. He sees your midnight prayers and the tears you wipe away in silence.
These moments are fleeting. They may not feel holy, but they are. Because in the middle of the night, when everything feels still, His presence is closest.
A Closing Prayer
Lord, thank You for meeting me in the quiet hours. Help me to see Your grace even in exhaustion, to rest in Your promises, and to cherish the small sacred moments that pass too quickly. Amen.
~ Sarah (MindOverMom)
Living Life with a Purpose 