Enjoy Every Minute? A Christian Therapist’s Take on the Hard Parts of Motherhood
“Enjoy every minute.”
It’s usually said with warmth, nostalgia, and good intentions. But for many mothers—especially those in the thick of sleepless nights, tantrums, postpartum hormones, or survival-mode days—this phrase doesn’t comfort. It quietly wears them down.
Why? Because it bypasses the struggle, the emotions, and the unique experience each mom deserves to claim and embrace as her own.
Why “Enjoy Every Minute” Misses the Mark for Moms
While it may be well-intended, the truth is it assumes motherhood should be experienced as a highlight reel rather than a wholly human journey.
Here are three reasons this phrase misses the mark:
It glosses over reality.
Some minutes are overwhelming, painful, or lonely. And no—you don’t have to force yourself to treasure the total chaos moments. That’s not gratitude; it’s just denial. Gratitude doesn’t require pretending that something hard is actually pleasant.
It overspiritualizes suffering.
It turns joy into a moral requirement. Being exhausted and struggling in motherhood is not a moral or spiritual failure. It’s part of living in a broken world. And recognizing the hard is actually required if we’re going to understand the grace available to us. Without the hard, why would we depend? God does not call us to bypass suffering—He meets us in it.
It creates shame.
If you’re not enjoying it, you must be doing something wrong. Wrong. If you don’t enjoy the tantrums and teething and colic and attitude and lying and hyperactivity and impulsive behavior, that doesn’t mean you’re failing—it means you’re not a masochistic robot. Congrats.
Seriously though, it’s okay to sit in the hard moments and cry that it’s not easier. It’s okay to scream in frustration. It’s okay to desperately wish your kid was just naturally a little more compliant. That doesn’t mean you’re wishing away their childhood. And it doesn’t mean you don’t love your kids.
It means you’re taking it one moment at a time and remembering that God doesn’t give us grace for the future or for imagined scenarios—He gives grace for right now. There is grace for your frustration, for your tears, for your deep-seated fears. But avoiding reality or pretending you love it all while slowly dying inside won’t solve anything.
Why Some Seasons of Motherhood Are Objectively Hard
Not all stages of motherhood are created equal—and that matters psychologically and spiritually.
Here are three realities many moms face, especially in early motherhood:
Sleep Deprivation Changes the Brain
Sleep deprivation alters brain function, affecting mood, judgment, and emotional regulation. A reality check many moms don’t hear often enough: a mother’s brain goes through more structural and chemical changes during pregnancy and postpartum than at any other time in adulthood.
This is intentional and by design. The brain prioritizes empathy and survival—of both mom and baby—while other functions, like short-term memory, are temporarily tabled. In other words, while the brain may be less efficient at remembering where she put her phone, it is far more effective at prioritizing bonding and keeping baby alive.
Chronic sleep loss also impairs executive functioning, including attention, focus, and working memory. Fragmented sleep prevents the brain from entering the deep restorative stages. Add in the sheer cognitive load—tracking feeds, schedules, recovery, milestones, and constant decision-making—and the system is overwhelmed.
Hormonal Shifts Increase Vulnerability
After birth, estrogen and progesterone drop dramatically, impacting mood and the hippocampus (which plays a key role in memory formation and retrieval). Prolactin rises to support milk production and can also affect the hippocampus.
These shifts don’t mean something is “wrong” with you. They mean your body is doing exactly what it was designed to do—often at great cost to emotional stability.
Constant Demand Keeps the Nervous System on High Alert
Motherhood often keeps the nervous system in survival mode. Many moms experience near-constant hypervigilance, sometimes contributing to postpartum anxiety or OCD.
This can look like intrusive thoughts:
Is the baby breathing? What was that noise? Did I wrap the swaddle too tight? What if I drop the baby? Is the bottle too warm? Am I producing enough? Is he sleeping too much?
Pair that with regular wakings, feedings, developmental concerns, other children, and household demands, and there is little rest for the weary during the postpartum period.
When Motherhood Dysregulates the Nervous System
Many moms believe they’re failing spiritually when what’s actually happening is nervous system dysregulation.
Motherhood is often a huge trigger for many women. It’s highly stimulating, wildly unpredictable, and the stakes feel impossibly high.
Here are three common signs your nervous system is overwhelmed:
Irritability over small things because your stress threshold is depleted
Emotional numbing or shutdown as the body tries to conserve energy
Anxiety or intrusive thoughts from a hyper-alert brain attempting to keep everyone safe and happy
Instead of asking what’s wrong with you, it’s time we start asking what support you need.
Struggling as a mom—whether it’s your first baby or your sixth—is not a moral or spiritual failure. It’s a natural response to an intense physical and emotional load. It’s incredibly hard to be the mom you want to be, the mom God created you to be, when your nervous system is stuck in survival mode.
What Christian Moms Actually Need to Hear
If we want to reflect Christ, our language has to change.
We need to stop sugar-coating the little years and pretending we’re all living inside a country music video (“You’re Gonna Miss This”??—thanks but no thanks,Trace) and start forging a new path. One full of grace and grit, paved with humility, and lined with compassionate truth.
Moms don’t need to hear that they’re doing yet another thing wrong by not savoring every moment. They need to hear:
“Some moments are hard. Full stop. It’s okay to cry about it.”
“You’re allowed to need help. You’re not required to go it alone like it’s a rite of passage.”
“God is not disappointed in you for struggling.”
Sometimes there’s nothing we can say or do to make things better. You can’t step into her shoes and do it for her. No amount of meal trains or childcare swaps will guarantee eight hours of sleep.
What does matter is the scaffolding of support we offer. The solidarity of saying, yes, three-year-olds are tiny tyrants in dinosaur undies who negotiate exclusively in snacks. The reminder to perfectionist moms that there is no badge for doing everything alone—even though we live like there is.
Most of all, we lean into her specific struggle and her unique experience of motherhood, reminding her that God does not see her as a failure—but as a carefully appointed nurturer of the tiny souls entrusted to her.
The struggle is expected. The guilt is unnecessary.
Holding Gratitude and Grief Together in Christian Motherhood
Christian motherhood is not either/or—it’s both/and.
Here are three practices that help integrate the tension:
Naming reality honestly – In prayer, journaling, or therapy.
Practicing micro-rest – Small nervous system resets throughout the day.
Staying connected – Isolation amplifies suffering.
No one ever got anywhere by sheer power of denial. Name it. God’s not surprised by your fears or your struggles, and to be honest most of your friends won’t be either (if they’re being honest). Tune into your body and know that it’s often incredibly difficult to think our way out of anxiety or overwhelm, but when we go straight to the body we can regulate ourselves from the bottom up. Think in terms of the senses – a hot cup of tea, a sour candy, a scented candle, sun on your face, ice cubes on your wrist, a favorite song, a phone call to a trusted friend. Lean toward community, letting safe people into your struggle. Fear and self-depracation thrive in isolation; peace and purpose thrive in community.
A Gentle Invitation Forward
Motherhood does not require constant enjoyment. It requires presence. Showing up in the ordinary moments. Staying when it would be easier to check out. Holding your child while your own heart feels frayed. Presence is not loud or polished—it’s often quiet, tired, and imperfect.
Hard seasons do not mean you’re doing it wrong. They mean you’re doing something demanding, sacred, and profoundly human. Struggle is not a sign of failure; it’s a sign that you are carrying real weight. And weight is meant to be carried with support, not in isolation.
God is near to the exhausted—not waiting for you to feel more grateful, patient, or joyful before drawing close. He is not standing at a distance, measuring your tone of voice or tallying your moments of frustration. He meets you in the middle of the night feeds, in the locked bathroom tears, in the whispered prayers that sound more like sighs than actual coherent sentences.
You are not behind. You are not missing the point. You are not ruining your children because this season feels heavy. Love does not disappear because joy feels elusive.
So let this be your permission—not to give up, but to let go of the pressure to enjoy what is simply hard. To stop performing motherhood and start inhabiting it as your own. To trust that you showing up is enough for today, and that the grace you’re given will be exactly what you need (no more, no less).
You don’t have to enjoy every minute.
You just have to stay.
Feeling like you need some extra help right now? Don’t wait. Click below or contact us and get started on your own healing journey — so you can be the mom you want to be, a mom you love to be.
Author: Kalie Moore, MA, LCMHC, CCTP, PMH-C
