Being a Stay-at-Home Mom Without an Income Nearly Broke Me

When my days were full, but I still had to ask for every coin, it humbled me in ways few people talk about. And sometimes, my child saw the cracks before anyone else did.

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I wasn’t lazy.

I wasn’t ungrateful.

I was just quietly unraveling — holding everything together on the outside while slowly coming undone inside.

I loved my home.

I loved my baby.

I chose this life with full intention.

But there were days I felt invisible.

Days when giving my all still didn’t feel like enough — not to others, and honestly, not even to myself.

I love the quiet rhythms of folding laundry, stirring pots, wiping counters. I love the chance to raise my babies up close — to witness the wonder in their everyday.

It’s a responsibility I don’t take lightly. A calling I deeply honor. A gift from God.

But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t stretch me.

Because even with a full day, even with my hands always busy, there were times I felt empty.

Not for lack of love, but for lack of something I could call mine.