One by one, the women around me rose, their smiles lighting the sanctuary as the ushers handed each a pink carnation. I stayed glued to my seat, wishing the floor would open and swallow me. Our pastor had just called the moms in the congregation to stand for their annual Mother’s Day recognition. They deserved the honor, but I didn’t. It’s not that I was looking for applause. What I really wanted—what I desperately prayed for, year after agonizing year—was a baby.
Infertility wrecked my plans for how my life would unfold. Everything was going beautifully when I went to college, met a cute guy, and got married. Then my husband and I started trying to conceive. Months passed, and we never saw a positive pregnancy test. Each failed cycle brought crushing disappointment and increasing anxiety. We tried different medical treatments, including a round of IVF (In-Vitro Fertilization). Nothing worked. Meanwhile, several friends announced their first, then second baby on the way. I watched, helpless, as their arms filled joyfully and mine remained empty.
Facing such a huge disruption to my life plans threw me into an identity crisis. With motherhood delayed indefinitely, I struggled to trust God’s purposes. My prayers turned feisty as I begged for answers. “Lord, why did you give me this calling if you aren’t fulfilling it?” Underneath my cries burned a question too scary to ask out loud. “If I’m not a mom, who am I?”
Maybe you can relate to my ache for a child. You understand the roller coaster of getting your hopes up every month only to have a solitary line send you crashing into grief. You may have lived through the devastation of hearing your doctor say, “There’s no heartbeat,” or you delivered a beloved son or daughter born still. So many of us women know these sorrows firsthand.
If you’ve wept over the pains of trying to bring a child into the world, I’m so sorry. I see you and I know how hard it is. Please know that you’re not alone.You might not feel it now, but God cares for you. He draws the brokenhearted close to himself, providing comfort through his Spirit. Like Hannah, you can pour out your soul to the Lord (1 Samuel 1:15). He is always listening, always compassionate, and always makes good on his promise to be a refuge for the weary.
God’s Word validates our grief through the stories of Hannah, Sarah, Elizabeth, and several other women who longed for a baby. Scripture also says that hope deferred makes the heart sick (Proverbs 13:12) and that children are a blessing from the Lord (Psalm 127:3). How reassuring to know that God sees our struggles and invites us to bring our desire for a child to him.
Motherhood can give women joy and purpose as we reflect God’s nurturing heart. But ultimately, motherhood doesn’t define our identity. It can’t. The core of our identity needs a surer base than anything this world can offer.
Who we are can only be defined by who made us. Our Creator breathed life into our lungs because he wanted people to love. He could have designed a less complicated world, leaving the stars and rocks to sing his praises. Instead, God chose to make humans who are forgetful and fall short because of sin, yet who receive over-the-top grace so we can showcase his glory.
This is why God created you—to be his child, freed from sin’s grip through his Son, renewed for holy living by his Spirit. As women, we are first and foremost daughters before any other role or relationship. We exist to glorify our Father.
Having a baby is a gift, but a baby doesn’t complete us. God made us to be fulfilled in him. The Psalmists echo the reminder, “the Lord is my portion,” meaning he is our inheritance or reward. No other relationship truly satisfies us. We have all the joy, peace, and belonging we could ever want through the mystery of Christ living in us.
Earthly gifts come and go depending on our circumstances. Jesus stays the same through every plot twist in our life plans. He gives us the only fail-proof anchor for our identity. Hannah’s prayer testifies to this truth. “There is no one holy like the LORD; there is no one besides you; there is no Rock like our God” (1 Samuel 2:2, NIV).
Just as Hannah did, you can keep praying and asking God for a baby. He welcomes your honest cries. As you run to him, remember everything you have as God’s own child. You’re his daughter, whether or not you’re a mother.
God’s plan for me did include motherhood on his timeline. I thank him daily for my sons and for all the ways he redeemed my season of heartache. After years of doing the mom gig, I have good news to share: My identity never changed. God loved me just as much pre-kids as he does today, even with my now-gray hairs. I’ve learned that setting my heart on him grounds me more than looking for fulfillment in being a mom.
The same goes for you, whatever season you’re in. If you’re a woman who calls Jesus “Lord,” you are his portion. He loves you so deeply, he died to give you life. Let his Word guard you from misplaced identity. Seek him and you’ll find who you were made to be.
