Dear New Mother, Embrace the Body of Christ
Near the end of December, my two little boys were lifted from my womb and placed against my cheeks. From the moment the tiniest one was placed in my arms, I became keenly aware of my neediness. With each feeding, each arm ache from carrying a fussy baby (while I watched my husband do the same), each frustrated cry from my toddler who was tired of hearing “Please wait,” and each interrupted nap on the couch, I felt a little more smothered by our needs.
One day as I struggled to burp one baby while the other wiggled next to me, I muttered to my husband, “God should have given mothers of multiples the ability to grow an extra arm.”
But as each day passed and more people offered to help, I realized that God had given us something much better than extra limbs—he had given us whole people who loved us and our children.
The Struggle with Pride and Self-Sufficiency
My entire pregnancy bowed my prideful, self-sufficient heart under God’s fatherly hand. I spent the first six weeks in bed with crippling morning sickness while our parents cared for our toddler and cleaned our house. In the second trimester I battled exhaustion and spent many afternoons at my mother-in-law’s house so she could help care for our two-year-old. During the third trimester I went into preterm labor and spent six weeks three hours away from my home under the care of a larger hospital, while our parents again took turns caring for our son around the clock. Now with two newborn babies, we have people in our home nearly every day helping me care for the twins, play with our little boy, and tend to housework.
I realized that this help was a gift, but at the same time I began to despise my neediness.
“I began to despise my neediness.”
I shared these feelings with one of my doctors recently. “I’m ashamed of myself, that I need so much help,” I told her. “I hear of other mothers who are self-sufficient by six weeks. I’m embarrassed that I’m still asking for help every day. I should be able to do it on my own now.”
She smiled at me, “So what if every mother in the world were self-sufficient at this point? Is your well-being (which in turn makes you a better mother) worth sacrificing so you can be self-sufficient? What if self-sufficiency isn’t the goal?” she asked. “Look at nature and you’ll see that mothers were never expected to care for their families on their own. Look to history and other cultures and you’ll see it again. When women started going to work, we suddenly believed they should be able to care for their families and households on their own too. But I don’t think that’s the way it should be.”
I don’t know what my doctor believes about God, but as I pondered her words I realized that Scripture is the origin of this idea: It is not good for man to be alone (Gen. 2:18). He has made us in such a way that we need community and support. We need one another. Professor Kelly Kapic wrote, “Our created existence meant that from the beginning we needed the power of each other in order to live fully before God and enjoy his good world . . . Our creaturely bodily existence was designed for life-giving human relationships that occurred under the benediction of God” (Embodied Hope, ch. 4).
The Body of Christ
While the world has family units, support groups, and the like (all of which are good), God has given his people something even greater: the body of Christ. “For just as the body is one and has many parts, and all the parts of that body, though many, are one body—so also is Christ. For we were all baptized by one Spirit into one body—whether Jews or Greeks, whether slaves or free—and we were all given one Spirit to drink” (1 Cor. 12:12–13 CSB). The Church is tied by something greater than blood, common interest, heritage, or geography—we are bonded by Christ who saves us, the Spirit who abides in us, and the Father who calls us his beloved children.
“We are bonded by Christ who saves us, the Spirit who abides in us, and the Father who calls us his beloved children.”
For the sake of my own pride, I am tempted to try to be the entire body by myself. I want to be a leg, a foot, an arm, and a hand all on my own, for my own. I want to look at the others God has created to be hands, arms, feet, and legs and say, “I have no need of you.” “But as it is,” Paul wrote, “God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body” (1 Cor. 12:18–20 CSB).
I am meant to be a part of the body, a small working gear among many others. God has shown me this with his humbling yet fatherly hand. When I bend myself to the point of exhaustion and despair, I hurt my family because I’m unable to love them as I should and I deny the church the blessing of serving our family and using their gifts. I deny my family the help we all truly need and the blessing of being served by our church.
But when I stop and remember the body I’m already a part of, I see that we all grow through receiving and giving. My children experience love and affection from adults other than us. My husband and I get the rest we need so we can be better spouses and parents. My siblings in Christ grow through serving. We each grow in our relationships with one another. What feels like weakness to me is actually strengthening the body as a whole.
Practical Ways to Invite or Offer Help for New Families
It’s hard for new parents to find the courage or humility to ask for help, but it doesn’t change the fact that we were created to need it. Perhaps these aren’t what every parent wants or needs, but here are six ways you can ask for help as a new parent or offer help as a part of the body:
Play with / watch their other children. We’ve had friends and family members come over simply to take our toddler outside to play for an hour. It may seem small, but it gave our son the one-on-one time he’s been missing out on—which in turn helped improve his mood. Although we still had to care for our newborns, it made it a little more restful.
Cook a meal for their family. It doesn’t have to be fancy—it can be as simple as tacos or pizza. Whatever it is, it gives the family more time to focus on their newborn or time to get the rest they desperately need.
Pick up groceries for them. If cooking isn’t your favorite skill, offer to pick up their groceries. The thought of taking a newborn (or two) into a store is intimidating. Being able to order my groceries online and ask someone else to pick them up was a relief.
Do some housework. There’s always housework to be done, but it’s not always possible to get much of it done with a newborn wanting to be held. Ask if there’s any way you can help with tidying up.
Support them in how they feed their baby. Whether they choose breastfeeding, bottle feeding, formula, or a combination of each, ask how you can best support them. Resist giving your unsolicited opinion, and instead offer to give a bottle or change a diaper. Feeding our twins was intimidating, but having a circle of support around me made it less of a mountain to climb.
Created for Help and to Give Help
We were not created to do this alone, and I’m thankful God has provided the help and support we needed. It’s since been a little over three months, and while it has been challenging at times, it hasn’t been as hard as it could have been. We are blessed with a loving community of friends and family who have willingly offered their time, resources, and care.
This is my encouragement to you, sister in Christ and weary mom: When you wish you could grow another arm (or maybe a few), remember the body you’re already a part of. And for those who know a tired mom, ask how you can be another arm for her and her family.
Lara d’Entremont is a wife, mother, writer, and biblical counselor. She desires to stir women to love God with their minds and hearts by equipping them with practical theology. You can find more of her writing at laradentremont.com.