Real love isn’t picture-perfect; it’s choosing each other, especially on the messy days, and letting grace do the rebuilding. Rachel shared a post on her third wedding anniversary that changed everything. It was the first time she opened up about becoming a wife and a seven-days-a-week stepmom overnight, and then finding out she was pregnant three weeks later.
Strangers messaged her for months to say her honesty helped them. That response convinced her there was a real need for truthful stories in a world that rewards perfect images, and it pushed her to start a blog. Her first year of marriage was nothing like a honeymoon. Rachel and her new family were pulled into a draining legal fight for eight months.
She and her husband, Seth, barely had time alone. The stress, new hormones, and constant conflict wore her down. Some nights she sat on the shower floor crying, wishing she could rewind her choice, even talking about divorce. Resentment took root, and life felt chaotic and unfair. Still, every day she asked God for the strength to keep trying.
There were bright spots. The relief and joy felt holy when an ultrasound showed they were having a boy. Right before the birth, the couple finally got one quiet month together. They rested, laughed, and remembered why they chose each other. Their son, Eli, was born on August 14, 2015, after Seth spent hours at her side, steady and kind. The delivery went well, but Rachel’s body and mind were spent entirely after nearly a year of nonstop crisis. When her hormones crashed, she spiraled into postpartum anxiety. For five weeks, she shook with fear, slept poorly, and felt numb, even while holding her baby. One night, her mother told her to take a bath.
Rachel brought a Bible and read Psalm 116 out loud, pleading for help. Something shifted. The next morning, she didn’t wake up gasping. Hope returned in small steps. She clung to Scripture, leaned on prayer, and asked Seth to pray over her on the hardest nights. That season humbled her. She stopped judging other mothers and learned deep compassion. Gratitude started showing up even on sick days and sleepless nights.
Year two wasn’t calmer. It felt like being shoved under a bright spotlight in a room full of drama she never asked for. The attacks kept coming, but Rachel and Seth learned to stand together. They realized the enemy wasn’t each other. They set boundaries, guarded their home, and slowly their marriage began to feel safe. Year three brought tough choices that felt wrong at first: significant changes to work, home, and family plans.
They built a house, sold a business, launched a new one, grieved a family death, dealt with health scares, faced back-to-back pregnancy losses, and handled more legal issues. Even so, peace grew. Rachel says they learned to celebrate the death of what had to go, the old version of their marriage, old expectations, and old pride. Hard as it was, letting go allowed something new to rise. What once felt broken began to be remade into something strong and beautiful.
She stopped asking why and started trusting who. Pain gave her purpose. She saw how easily she could harm what she loved and how much she needed help beyond herself, not once but daily. In that dependence, she experienced God as close and real, and she wouldn’t trade the struggle because it brought her closer to Him. That closeness made forgiveness, patience, and keeping her married possible when leaving would have been easier. One quiet moment tied it all together. After complaining about their “not normal” family in the shower, she noticed a cross hanging by the bedroom door.
In the mirror’s reflection, she saw a photo from their wedding. It clicked. Her marriage wasn’t about always being happy; it was about learning to love the way she had been loved sacrificially. Love meant giving, staying, and trying again. Rachel breathes gratitude. Every morning with her son, every night in her husband’s arms, every ordinary moment feels like a gift. Three years in, she’s thankful they didn’t quit, thankful they trusted through the worst, and hopeful about what comes next.
