Finding The Good In Single Motherhood

It was January 2005. I was 19 years old, working my first job as a Medical Assistant at a doctor’s office during the day and as a cashier at a clothing store in the evenings. One evening, a guy walked in who immediately caught my attention. He was with another guy and a girl. He wasn’t the type of guy I’d normally be into, but there was something about him that peaked my interest. When he got to the register to pay for his items, I asked him if the girl with him was his girlfriend. When he told me no, I wrote down my number and gave it to him. He called me the next day, and I learned he was 28 years old and had one child (I later found out he actually had another). Things moved pretty quickly between us. Within two months I was pregnant.
Initially, he seemed very happy about me being pregnant, saying he wanted to move me in and start a family. But all of a sudden he started changing. Almost overnight, he went from being the sweetest man I had ever met to being distant and cold. I was about 8 weeks into my pregnancy at that point and had no idea when I left his house that that would be the last time I saw him until my daughter was almost a year old. I was so sure that once he saw her for the first time, he would fall in love with her and want to be in her life forever. But I was wrong. He saw her a few times and disappeared again. I never ever thought I would be a single mother. I remember growing up seeing my brother’s and older cousins’ girlfriends chase after them demanding they take care of their children. I had told myself that would never be me. But there I was in the same situation with my child’s father. After regularly showing up at his job throwing things and cussing him out, they told me I couldn’t come back. I found out he got fired shortly after. It would be 5 years later at his mother’s funeral when he saw my daughter again. That was the first time he saw all 3 of his children together and the last time he’s seen any of them to date.
Throughout the years I actually prayed that I would run into him. I had it all planned out in my head. My plan was to pick something up off the ground and beat him with it. I was so angry and serious about hurting him. Although my daughter was still young, I knew one day she would grow up and ask why her father wasn’t around. And the thought of hurting her feelings angered me. I would often wonder, How could he not love her? She’s amazing. I felt it was unfair that I was struggling to take care of my daughter by myself while he lived his life as if he had no children. As time went on, I got tired of being angry. After all, if I had done something to harm him physically I would’ve ended up in jail, and my poor baby would have no father or mother. It took a long time, but I gradually began to accept that my daughter’s father didn’t want anything to do with her.
One of my friends, who is a divorced mother of 3, always tells me how blessed I am that I don’t have to co-parent. “Blessed?! How can that be a blessing?” I asked her. She went on to tell me how her ex-husband constantly undermines her authority and how every time her children come home from spending the week with him, they have picked up a new habit and are sometimes disrespectful toward her. She then spends that following week trying to break those habits and reteach her rules. It wasn’t until I noticed more of my friends going through the same thing that I began to understand what she meant. I don’t have those type of problems because I’m the only one raising my daughter. And when I’m honest with myself about the kind of lifestyle her father lives, she would probably be exposed to environments I wouldn’t want her in anyway. He is always running from the law and even now has a warrant out for his arrest. His own brother has even said he wouldn’t add any value to her life. And then I had to ask myself, “Would I rather him come around, get her hopes up, only to let her down over and over again?”. The answer is no. I would rather him stay away than to come around and make promises only to break them. AND, the selfish part of me is glad to have my daughter all to myself LOL. Just kidding… But not really. LOL.
While I began to see the good in his absence, I knew my daughter would never be able to wrap her mind around how it could possibly be a good thing that her father is not in her life. And I don’t expect her to. All she knows is she wants her father. The moment I had been dreading came while we were at the dinner table one night. In tears, she told me she wishes her father was around. She admitted to being jealous of other kids who have their father in their lives. It broke my heart to pieces knowing she was hurting and I couldn’t do anything about it. As her mother, I could love her, care for her, nurture her but I could never take the place of her father. Every little girl has something inside of them that craves the presence of their Daddy, which is why most girls/women tend to be forgiving of their absent father no matter how old she is when he finally comes around. Fighting back my own tears, I held her and told her I was sorry. I told her I don’t know why her father is the way he is, but I do know that there is always a purpose in our pain. Perhaps God is protecting her from something. Perhaps she will grow up to make better decisions than I did. Perhaps she will grow up and help the generation after her cope with the absence of their father. Whatever the purpose, God knows what He’s doing. At 11 years old, she is more open about her feelings now. She regularly expresses her desire for a father. I encourage her to make her request known to God. It is absolutely okay to pray for a father. Her Heavenly Father knows her wants and more importantly, He knows her needs.
I am in no way glorifying single motherhood or having children outside of marriage. I do not believe it is God’s Will for so many children to grow up in single-family homes. It is not what He had in mind when He created the family. He does allow us to have free will, the ability to make choices. And some of our choices, whether our own or the choices of the other parent, can result in single motherhood. (And single fatherhood) I am just happy to find the good in my own single motherhood finally. And it started with me looking at the positives of my situation and being thankful that things are not as bad as they could have been. I am finally able to think about her father and not get angry. I am finally at peace, no longer bitter and wishing ill on him. I was unhealthy physically because of the stress, and spiritually because I hadn’t forgiven him. And because I hadn’t forgiven him, I couldn’t heal. And if I am not healed, I am no good for my daughter in her brokenness. (I touch on this subject of healing in Confession From An Imperfect Mother.) She relies on Mommy to be strong. And Mommy gets her strength from the Lord. When I give my anger, my pain, my own brokenness over to God, His strength is made perfect. I give it all to Him daily which is why I’m able to forgive, and why I’ve been able to find some good in my single motherhood.


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© Kendra Fowler and 'LoveMizzK', 2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Kendra Fowler and 'LoveMizzK' with appropriate and specific direction to the original content







Confession From An Imperfect Mother.


When I became pregnant with my daughter, I was filled with so many emotions but mainly fear. I could not believe I was actually pregnant! I mean… not that I didn’t know how it happened. I was just in shock. Wow I’m going to be a Mommy, was all I could think throughout my pregnancy. Once I got closer to my due date and started buying clothes, I would sit on the end of my bed, hold a onesie in my arms and cradle it as if it were an actual baby. I did this just about every night before I went to bed and listened to Monica’s song, “For You I Will”. It became my song for her. I could not wait to hold my baby for real. The closer I got to my due date, the more afraid I became. I became afraid of something bad happening while she was still in my womb. I was afraid of something bad happening at birth. I had read and heard so many different stories about the amniotic sac rupturing, the umbilical cord getting  wrapped around the baby’s neck and the baby dying during birth. I cannot even put into words how afraid I was. I was more afraid of losing my baby during birth than I was of going through the birth process itself. When it was finally time to have her, I probably prayed more than I ever had before. I had been in labor for 3 days, having contractions every 10 minutes, and sent home twice before the hospital finally kept me.

Let me just say this…

The fear I had when she was still in my womb was NOTHING compared to the fear I felt once she was out in the world! I was afraid of the possibility of her getting sick from people touching her, I was afraid that someone was watching me and plotting to take her from me (lol so serious), I was afraid of her dying from Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS), and most of all I was afraid of loving her too much and then losing her. The fear of losing her was so great that I was afraid of getting too close to her. I loved her immensely from the moment I saw her. We really connected the next morning… I remember I stood up, held her up in the air, and just looked at her. Wow, I thought, this is my baby! I kissed her little mouth and she sucked on my lip and her little eyes were looking away as she sucked away, I guess she was hungry (lol). But it truly was the best thing I had ever felt! I loved my little baby much more than I ever thought I could love and boy was it a scary feeling.

Fast forward…

I did not know this, but over the years I was emotionally keeping my baby at a distance. I knew I loved her more than anything in the world, but… there was an invisible wall I had built around myself that even she had not gotten through. See…The people in my life who I loved the most had no idea they were the people I loved the most because I didn’t say it or show it well. My baby was the only person I could be affectionate and loving with (called it being mushy). And even with all of the kisses and hugs I showered her with, I still felt an emotional distance between her and I. So I decided to reach out to a Therapist. I cried and told her how hard it was for me to be affectionate with people and I told her about the emotional distance I felt between me and my daughter. What she helped me to realize was this… because of being hurt so many times from losing almost every person I loved, I had subconsciously kept myself (or tried to keep myself) from getting attached to people. Unfortunately that included my baby. I was very young the first time I experienced losing family members, the worse being my mother. My brother was killed 5 months after my mother died, losing both of my grandfathers the same year, my grandmothers were gone, and not to mention cousins and friends I had grown up with were passing away. Death has been so real to me my entire life so I learned early not to get too attached to people. And I’ve heard people say that not getting too attached to people is actually a good thing, including children. It hurts to even write this, but I had become almost emotionally unavailable. And when a mother is emotionally unavailable to her child/children there is a great potential for neglect. While I did not neglect her in the sense of leaving her, I neglected her in other ways. I didn’t spend a lot of time with her. Looking back, I can remember holding and cuddling her at times, and being so comfortable but then crying because the thought of losing her would come into my mind so I would quickly put her down. Every time I thought about losing her, I distanced myself. (My poor baby! It hurts to even write this)


What changed that…

Once I realized I was in my baby’s life but not really “present”, it saddened me so much I couldn’t function. I cried out to God to please help me. What is wrong with me?? I asked Him. I begged Him to heal me from my past. I knew it was affecting how I was parenting my daughter– at a distance. It wasn’t an easy process, healing from my past. First, I accepted my past for what it was. I couldn’t change it. And I acknowledged that my past had equipped me for real life. In real life, people hurt you, whether it’s intentional or not. In real life, people die. It’s a part of life. And then I had to look at the good things that came from my past. God had a plan for me. He knew me before I was formed in my mother’s womb, and my past was all a part of His divine purpose for my life. I also had to accept that my baby does not belong to me. Nobody truly belongs to anyone because we all belong to God. My fear of losing her was crippling and kept me from loving her the way God calls me to love her. I had to get to the point of being able to tell God and truly mean it, “My life is not my own, neither is Kyelia’s. As I commit my life to you, I release her to You as well. Have Your way in our lives. May Your Will be done.” I gave it all to Him and I never took it back.



I do not walk around in fear of losing her, or anybody else. Is it still something I continually pray about today? Of course! I have to be prepared to counteract any negative feeling or thought, and I do that by fighting in the spirit through prayer.

Healing from a painful past can be a life long process for some. Some people never let go. They go through life holding on to things that happened to them when they were 2 or 3 years old. And because of that, they walk around with a wall like the one I had… never letting anybody in, not even their children. I pray the process of breaking down that wall begins today. I pray that whatever pain, disappointments, hurt, or crippling fears be cast out in the name of Jesus so it is no longer the wall blocking the blessings that await us. I pray that any mother out there who can relate to anything I wrote in this post finds comfort in knowing she is not alone and it is not too late to break down that wall. We all have painful scars from and past hurts from our childhood we have held onto for too long, and I pray for our strength to be able to put them down and walk away. In Jesus name. Amen.

Love, Mizz K 💜

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© Kendra Fowler and 'LoveMizzK', 2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Kendra Fowler and 'LoveMizzK' with appropriate and specific direction to the original content



Do You Pay More Attention To Your ‘News Feed’ Than You Do Your Child?

“It’s just Facebook!” We all like to say that, but is it really? I read a story this morning about how a mother did not realize she was addicted to social media until her small daughter expressed that she felt like her Mommy liked the computer more than she liked her. It made me think of a similar experience I had with my own daughter. One day I was in my phone reading; I do not remember what it was but I do remember that my daughter kept asking me questions. I was so into what I was reading that I was not paying her any attention. I can remember nodding and saying okay a few times. Then she burst out and said, “Mommy you don’t pay me any attention anymore. You’re always in your phone!” I looked at her and she looked like she was about to cry. I realized her feelings were hurt. I put down my phone, hugged her and told her that I was sorry and I will do better.

Now, this wasn’t something I was hearing for the first time. I have been told by countless people that I’m always in my phone and don’t pay attention. Every single guy that I have ever dated has complained about me not paying them any attention because I’m always in my phone. My aunt, before she passed away, would always tell me put away my phone. When my father is riding in my car, he points out that whatever it is I’m looking at in my phone when I stop at a red light can wait. None of that phased me though. It’s my phone and I pay the bill so I can be on my phone all day and night if I pleased. Until it came out of my daughter’s mouth. When she said it, I finally heard it. I was addicted to my phone. Whether I was browsing Facebook, Instagram, or reading the mag articles that are sent to my email daily, I was in my phone constantly. I was online more than I was present with my baby. Sometimes I would plan to just get online and browse for a minute to see what’s going on. A minute would turn into 30 minutes and then an hour. Next thing I know hours would have gone past and I still needed to cook dinner, clean, or check homework.

I am sharing this to bring light to the fact that we don’t realize that the little bit of time we think we are spending on social media adds up to hours. Sometimes as many hours as we spend at work! If you don’t know if you are addicted, ask yourself how often you get on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, etc. Do you find yourself at a red light pulling out your phone “just to see what’s going on”? Do you find yourself falling behind at work or school because a few minutes of browsing turned into hours of commenting, liking, and sharing posts? Do you find that you are on social media from the time your child comes home from school up until he or she is gone to bed? If so, I hope you can admit it and begin taking the necessary steps to fight this addiction. It’s just as bad as being addicted to drugs, alcohol, or sex. Addictions of any kind are unhealthy.

I am not saying that social media is a bad thing. I’m not saying that at all. It’s a great way to stay connected to the people you care about who live far away. It’s a great way to network and market your business. It’s a great way to evangelize to this lost world. What I am saying, though, is that social media addiction is real and our children are affected more than we realize.

I cannot pretend that I am completely over my addiction. It’s definitely a process as I am always tempted to get on my phone. I try to use social media now to do what I’m called to do, spread the Word of God and bring others to the feet of Christ. And I’ve been including my daughter in that. When I write, I let her proofread and give me her opinion. She is waiting at this very moment for me to finish this article so that she can read it before I publish it lol. She is almost 10 years old and time is flying. One day I will look back and wish I spent every single second with her hugging and loving on her. This is what makes me deactivate my accounts to take a break when I find myself online constantly. This is what makes me delete the apps from my phone. This is what makes me leave my phone upstairs when we are eating or watching a movie together.  I never want her to believe that she comes second to social media.

 ♥ Like what you read? Please subscribe to my site by clicking ‘Subscribe to Mizz K’s Posts’ to receive an email notification for future posts 

© Kendra Fowler and 'LoveMizzK', 2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Kendra Fowler and 'LoveMizzK' with appropriate and specific direction to the original content
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