There are mornings I don’t talk about much.

Mornings where I wake up long before my alarm—not because I want to, but because my stomach won’t let me sleep.
Mornings where I sit on the edge of my bed, gagging and dry heaving, just waiting… praying… for my body to calm down enough so I can get ready for the day.

Some days, the only relief I get is standing in the shower, letting hot water run over me, hoping it relaxes what I can’t control.

And then somehow… I still go to work.

There are days I sit in my office with stomach cramps that feel almost like labor, pain wrapping around into my back, trying to focus, trying to push through like everything is normal.
There are days I can’t eat because the nausea is so overwhelming.
Days where I’ve watched the number on the scale drop—almost 50 pounds this year—without ever trying.

And the hardest part?

Not knowing why.

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Some days are lighter.
Some days I can get out of bed and almost forget something is wrong.

But other days… it’s constant.

Nausea that lingers all day.
Pain that doesn’t let up.
Nights where sleep doesn’t come because the cramping won’t stop.
Even drinking water isn’t simple anymore.

I find myself scared to eat.
Scared that one wrong choice will send me into a flare that ruins days… sometimes a week.

And in the quiet moments, my mind goes places I wish it didn’t.

I ask questions like:
Why is my body doing this?
What did I do to deserve this?

There are days I catch myself wondering if this is punishment.
For the years I spent drinking.
For the choices I made in the past.

And even though I know in my heart that God doesn’t work like that…
those thoughts still try to creep in.

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What hurts just as much as the physical pain…
is the kind of mom I am on my worst days.

I have a son who just wants to play, to go, to experience life.

And there are moments where I’m short.
Moments where I’m snappy.
Moments I wish I could take back the second they happen.

I don’t want to be remembered that way.

That part… that part weighs heavy.

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But even in all of this…

I have not lost my faith.

Not even close.

Because on my hardest days, I remind myself of this:

God has never left me.
Not once.

He has carried me through every storm I’ve faced before this one, and I believe with everything in me that He will carry me through this too.

I may not have answers yet.
I may not understand why my body is struggling the way it is.

But I do know this—

I am not walking through it alone.

God gave me a husband who stands beside me in this every single day.
A man who is my rock when I feel like I’m falling apart.
That is not by accident. That is God’s provision in my life.

And even on the days where I feel weak… I am still held.

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Life doesn’t pause for pain.

It doesn’t slow down because you’re tired, or sick, or overwhelmed.

So I’ve made a choice.

I will keep showing up.

I will keep fighting through the hard days.
I will keep listening to my body, even when it frustrates me.
I will keep choosing faith, even when fear is loud.

Because this life—
this beautiful, messy, unpredictable life—
is still a gift.

And I want to experience it.

With my husband.
With my son.
With the people I love.
And with Jesus at the center of it all.

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If you’re walking through something similar…
If your body feels like it’s working against you…
If you’re in a season of not knowing—

You are not alone.

And this is not the end of your story.

Closing Prayer

Lord,

I lift up anyone walking through struggles in their body right now.
You see their pain, their exhaustion, and the questions they carry.

Bring them comfort, strength, and peace in the middle of it all.

I also pray for the loved ones who stand beside them—
the ones who feel helpless but continue to show up with love.
Give them patience, strength, and peace as well.

Remind us all that we are not alone, and that You are with us through every moment.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.