My name is Constance Burts, and I am a wife and mother to four beautiful children. These two roles, Wife and Mom, are the small yet ever-unfolding chapters of a much larger tale. I could, for the sake of time, hurry along to the sweet parts of the story, the parts where I’m overwhelmed with joy, discovering my pregnancies, or meeting my children for the first time, but if I do that, it wouldn’t only be for the sake of time. It would be for the sake of my own self-image—and I’d risk an opportunity to lean in and sit with you, extend a virtual, “Girl, I get it,” as the truth of your experiences collides with the filtered, dare I say overly exaggerated lies the world wants us all to believe.
Stories are powerful in that way—like a lighthouse, a story shared at the right moment can illuminate a darkened path and give us clarity and a right understanding, all while whispering …you are not alone. Believe it or not, we all have a story—and to borrow a line from Viola Davis, “We are all worthy of telling our stories and having them heard.” So here it goes, this is the start of my story.
I grew up on the south side of Houston, surrounded by a village of mothers and mothering figures. Houston, as you may know, is not a small or water tower town, but Belcrest, the street where I spent so much of my young days, where neighbors knew my name, what time to expect me home from school, and even held an extra key for me just in case I left home without mine was my norm. They weren’t super evasive or mean, keeping an eye on me for malicious intent. However, as I walked to school and back home alone, maneuvering the streets of what we affectionately called “South Park, Texas,” their cautious eye became my defense, but so did my parents’ love.
My dad is a Pastor and has served in Ministries in some capacity my entire existence. Therefore, my heart had been primed with conversations about God, prayer, and having the faith to believe since birth. As a daddy’s girl, it was so easy for me to believe, not only in the things he taught me about God but also in the things he taught me indirectly, through a smile, allowing me to accompany him to work, singing songs in our living room, a kiss on the cheek, a wink of an eye— you know, the simple things. The role he and my mom played in my young life and the support of extended family and friends grounded me in a secure identity. I was one part of a village, a well-functioning matrix, and because of them, I felt rooted and oriented to a world that could have easily felt big and unsafe. Because of them, when I think of home, I don’t just think of a place or a street but of perfectly fried chicken, my grandma braiding my hair while we watched TV, spinning on tires handmade into swings, picking honeysuckles while running from bees. This was my life. It was where I felt I most belonged.
My family, extended ones, and neighbors alike—they all helped shape me. They were the molding pot for my identity … but suddenly, things began to change.
James Baldwin says, “… change implies the breakup of the world as one has always known it; it is the loss of all that gave one an identity, the end of safety.” As much as I hate to admit it, Baldwin’s quote became a truth inscribed in the inner fabric of my heart.
My parent’s relationship, meaning their love for one another, never concerned me. They were my parents; they were a part of me, and at six years old, that’s the only thing that really mattered. Every now and again, up to this point, they would have disagreements and become frustrated with one another, as would any couple. These conversations would happen in the car or while they got dressed and ready for church, during dinner, or anywhere really, but at some point, these small once-and-a-while frustrations became an open and suppressed conflict, loud and terrifying arguments… at least to my six-year-old eyes These heightened moments would eventually end with my dad coming and going like a ship through the night.
I worried each time my parents argued; I cried each time my dad left; I questioned every time, “Will he come back?”
My village, although still present, was deeply distracted and no longer intact—my dad, disillusioned by his own childhood shame and grief, became reckless and evasive, leaving my mom alone to care for two daughters while consumed by her own sadness and disbelief. My extended family now whispered a coming demise, and I bear witness to it all, my body now bent by the weight of family distress.
Life would unfold as always: my mom became pregnant and engaged, and my dad ran off to do the same. At this point in my life, I’m now in middle school and maneuvering a new kind of normal at home and school. With my village now divided and no longer intact, I had no tools to re-orient myself to the change of reality, so it became easy to slip through the cracks. I turned inward, became self-focused, and became lost in my own fantasy world; by high school, physical abuse would find me and a growing interest in boys and a desire to be liked turned into a scene of attempted rape.
My body, the same body that would eventually be a home to four innocent souls, carrying and nurturing them to term, was now a home to shame.
This is how the road toward motherhood began.
Describe how you discovered your first pregnancy:
From age six to twenty-six, life had been a delicate balance of bitter and sweet moments— parental divorce, a loss of identity, struggle, shame, and then Eric, my now husband, came on the scene. Eric and I reunited in the winter of 2003, but we’d known each other for years before that. Our parents were friends who attended the same church in Houston, where he and I were both born. As the story goes, our marriage was always pre-ordained.
In 2007, one year before my college graduation, we made things official and tied the knot. After graduation, I relocated from Texas to California with a degree in my hand and all the drama of my early years behind me. Because Eric was in the military, he received orders to board a newly commissioned ship banked in Mississippi at the time. This would mean leaving me alone in a new city for at least six months. I DIDN’T TAKE THE NEWS TOO HARD because I’d already enrolled in graduate school and had a full-time job. Besides, a week after he flew out to meet his new ship, I discovered an unexpected surprise…I was PREGNANT, and wow, my heart was so full.
It was a late afternoon; I’d just left work and desperately needed to pee. So, I ran up the stairs and bounced from side to side, doing that well-known “potty dance” all the way to the toilet. After I had done my business, I noticed a slight tinge of pink in the tissue., but because I was so close to having my cycle, I grabbed a tampon and went on my way. However, the next day, I was not on my period, and for the next five days, there was no sight of any blood, only swollen breasts and a nose super sensitive to bad smells. This combination had my mind in knots, so the only thing left to do was Google my symptoms. All signs pointed to a possible pregnancy, and because I had a pregnancy scare before, I happened to have a home test under my restroom sink. The results were in, and I couldn’t believe it! I called Eric immediately, then my mom.
The next few weeks were filled with conversations with Eric about the future, what to expect, making a doctor’s appointment, and starting prenatal vitamins. My heart was filled with expectation and that mommy-to-be glow— until one Sunday morning. I rolled out of bed and hurried to go to the restroom. After I peed and stood up, I noticed something fleshy in the toilet. I nervously got myself together, drove to the ER, and waited to be seen by a doctor. After an hour or so, an ultrasound showed a viable heartbeat, and I saw my little peanut for the first time.
Even now, as I reflect on that time in my life in order to write these words, I can’t help but smile; it was such a sweet moment, but here’s the thing about moments: they are short-lived.
At nine weeks, I’m at the doctor’s office for a routine visit, and I’m staring at a screen that should be revealing my baby’s heartbeat, but instead, all I see is a wade of still flesh. The doctor and nurse are telling me how normal these sorts of things are, but I’m totally distracted by the image of my baby lying lifeless in my womb. I didn’t respond; I just wanted out of that office and out of the experience as a whole. I wanted to disconnect; I wanted the walls that have always protected me when life became too much, but all that came to my rescue were my tears. It was like a levy broke, and years of pent-up emotions flowed. I wept in the parking lot, sitting in my car. I wept on my kitchen floor, at the base of my stairs, in the shower, in my closet, and into a pillow all through the night.
Life is a delicate balance of bitter and sweet, but God, for whatever reason, had chosen to disrupt my little taste of sweet. Growing up, no one speaks of this (at least not in my experience) they give us dolls, strollers, and woven baskets and teach us to take care of our pretend young…but where was the preparation for this? At nine weeks, my first pregnancy ended in miscarriage.
The life that once filled my womb was now gone; the only thing remaining was anger and that old familiar acquaintance…shame.
Being full of life, only to be depleted of it spontaneously, is memorable. I carry that first pregnancy in my heart and share it with my four children, even today.
It would take nine months to get pregnant again.
Which pregnancy was more memorable?
If I had to choose from my four living children, the most memorable pregnancy, I’d choose Keri. My firstborn! Now, I’m not just choosing her because she’s the oldest, even though, if I’m being honest, first pregnancies are pretty magical. However, I chose her because my body whined the most while carrying her. As my uterus stretched to accommodate a developing fetus, I experienced pressure and pain, which the doctors called Round Ligament pain. But wait, there’s more. One day, as I was alone yet again, I felt like I had started my period, and I’m not referring to a first day, light and easy kind of flow, but an OMG, I need a pad like right now, type of emergency. I ran upstairs, and there it was dark red blood. After hours in the hospital, an ultrasound, and an x-ray, I learned I had developed a subchorionic hemorrhage and could likely have another miscarriage.
I bled for five months straight and was not reassured by my doctors that I wouldn’t have a miscarriage. Pregnancy following a miscarriage is stressful enough without the scare of messy and unusual complications—but again, as God would have it, bitter experiences were on the rise in my life, and I was tired. I remember praying late one night while lying in bed and sharing my fear and frustration with God, but also ending the prayer with this line, “ Let your will be done.” From that night forward, I stopped worrying, I stopped frantically running to the restroom to satisfy my anxious spirit, and I stopped complaining to Eric and resting my weight of worry on his lap. I surrendered, and after that, the bleeding just stopped. I went on to enjoy the rest of my pregnancy with ease. Every flutter, kick in the ribs, and all the pain from the weight now sitting on my sciatic nerve was taken in stride.
Keri was born on October 17, 2010.
Eric Jr. (EJ) was born on May 31, 2012.
Khloe was born on February 24, 2015.
And Ezra was born on January 24, 2019.
All my pregnancies were discovered after missing my period and confirmed through a home pregnancy test. Throughout each pregnancy, I experienced food aversion, cravings for mashed potatoes (something I hated before getting pregnant), and a sensitive to smell. Early signs of pregnancy included heavy and tender breasts and a headache. During my first pregnancy, which ended in miscarriage, I experienced implantation bleeding, which is why I thought my cycle had started.
After a few weeks, most of my early symptoms, such as swollen and tender breasts, dissolved; however, my breasts were very itchy throughout each pregnancy. Swollen hands and ankles became prominent during the last two months of pregnancy. I gained 60 pounds with each child.
What was unique about each pregnancy?
Keri- Well, I’ve pretty much shared all the craziness I endured while pregnant with her. But with each pregnancy following her, my body knew exactly what to do and quickly lapsed into “pregnant-bod” after just two weeks. Therefore, my pregnancies with EJ and Khloe were uneventful and carefree.
Ezra- By the time I learned I was pregnant with Ezra, I was 33 years old—emphasis on the word old! My body whined and complained as it began stretching in preparation for another pregnancy. I was so out of breath just walking from my car to the front door of my house, and the fatigue was unreal.
Did you successfully predict the gender of each child?
The only official gender reveal I had was with Khloe, and at that time, I did predict correctly that I was having a girl. When I was pregnant with Keri, I didn’t attempt to predict her gender, but I did want my first child to be a boy; therefore, once I became pregnant again (and so quickly), I hoped for a boy and received one.
Ezra, because he was the last born and also because the whole point of having a fourth child was to create balance in our family and give Ej a brother. So, when I discovered I was pregnant, I claimed a boy. I didn’t consider the possibility of anything different. I felt in my heart and stated every time someone mentioned the possibility of having a third girl, “ God would not do me like that!”
What were your expected due dates and when did you actually give birth?
Keri’s expected due date was October 17, 2010. My water broke on the night of October 16, 2010, and she was born on her expected due date.
EJ’s expected due date was May 29, 2012. However, his due date came and went, and there was no sign of a baby. I ultimately had to be induced; he was born on May 31, 2012.
Khloe and Ezra were scheduled inductions (Mommy suggested). Khloe was born on February 24, 2015, and Ezra was born on January 24, 2019.
Walk us through the birthing process for each pregnancy:
Keri- My contractions started around 1:00 a.m. on October 16, 2010, but they weren’t painful; they felt more like a tightening of the uterus. Once I woke up around 7:00 a.m., I noticed an orange-like discharge in my underwear. My doctor referred to it as, ‘ Evidence that my mucus plug had dislodged, ”and she stated, “We’re going to have a baby today.” I waited around all day, contractions coming and going, but at the same frequency. Eventually, my mom asked if I wanted to grab food and walk around the mall. I agreed to the change of scenery. While walking around the mall, I noticed my contractions were coming more frequently, and I felt I probably should get back home. So, I rallied my mom and sister and told them what I was experiencing, and we headed back to my house.
The whole time, my husband found it hard to believe that I was actually in labor. He was sure the doctor would send me back home if we went to the hospital. I looked at him flat-faced, grabbed my bag, and ensured I had everything I needed, then told him, “ I’m going to the hospital; you can stay here if you would like.” He quickly followed suit.
While at the hospital in triage, I remember feeling a warm gush of fluid coming out of my body, and I stated, “Something’s happening,” and the nurse smiled and said, “Oh, your water broke.” If nothing else, this scene made a believer out of my husband for sure.” I was in active labor from 9:00 p.m. until finally, Keri was born at 4:00 a.m. I was exhausted. The last few pushes were an absolute blur, but I remember saying, “Come on, Keri. Come on!”
The first line I shared with her once she was in my arms was, “It’s okay, I got you.”
EJ: I so desperately wanted to go into natural labor with EJ, but every day leading up to his due date was uneventful regarding contractions. Because labor seemed so far off, my doctor asked that I still come in for my weekly checkup. She ordered an ultrasound to be administered to check the baby’s growth, and I couldn’t believe what I saw. EJ appeared so chill and unbothered while I was full of antsy energy. I was afraid. I’d watched enough episodes of “A Baby Story” on TLC to know that Pitocin, the drug used to induce labor contractions, combined with an epidural, can lead to an emergency Cesarean. I did not want that, but EJ did not want to come into the world. So, on May 31, 2012, I was induced at 7:00 a.m., and Eric was born at 3:00 p.m. There were no complications; therefore, no need for a cesarean.
My first words to Eric were, “Shhh, it’s okay.”
Khloe and Ezra’s delivery dates were pre-scheduled inductions. This time, there was no fear regarding being induced. There is always a risk for complications, but since I’d been induced before, I didn’t feel any apprehension regarding it. I went into the hospital on February 23, 2015, to ensure I was prepped and ready bright and early the next morning for induction. I was induced at 6:00 a.m., and Khloe was born at 3:40 p.m. There were no complications following the induction. In 2019, I was pre-scheduled for an induction on January 24th at 7:00 a.m. All things went as planned; there were no complications. however, it took a long time for my labor to progress, which is pretty rare for a fourth pregnancy. I was in labor for 12 hours, and although I was not in any pain, I felt very restless and anxious to see my baby boy.
My first words to Khloe and Ezra are a blur, but I imagine that, as with the two before, I was overwhelmed with joy and quick to let them know that I “had them.”
I opted for an epidural for each of my pregnancies. There really was no consideration for any alternative. An epidural was my only option.
Describe any health complications you may have experienced either during or after childbirth:
As mentioned before, I developed a subchorionic hemorrhage while pregnant with Keri, putting me at risk for miscarriage.
Describe the feeding method for your children:
I chose to breastfeed each of my children. Ezra may have been the easiest child to nurse; however, Keri was the most difficult. It took a while for my milk to come in, and she struggled to latch on to my nipple during feedings. In the hospital, I pumped to stimulate milk flow and fed Keri through a small tube that was tied to my pinky finger. This allowed her to eat without the risk of nipple confusion. Also, after her birth, she developed a condition called thrash, which also affected my nipple. It HURT tremendously.
Eric latched on with no problems. But my breast became extremely swollen even before my milk officially dropped. My milk ducts were painfully tender and swollen.
With Ezra, he latched on just fine; however, after my tubal ligation surgery, I developed Mastitis because I could not nurse him after the procedure.
Describe the difficulties you’ve faced in parenting multiple children:
Now that my children are older, navigating multiple children feels harder now as compared to when they were younger. They each have unique personalities and needs, and some crave affection while others do not. But the truth is every age brings a new set of challenges. When I only had two children, things were much easier in hindsight, but when I was in the thick of it, especially as a stay-at-home mom, I was greatly stressed and found it challenging to self-regulate as my role as caretaker never seemed to come to an end. Raising two teens and two children in elementary was also challenging. There is a growing demand for my time, energy, and mind due to extracurricular activities, helping with homework, or simply helping them to process the challenges of their day. And then there is the issue of disciplining tactics, sibling rivalries, and ensuring that each child is treated equally; otherwise, there will be an uproar regarding a matter of injustice.
What are common misconceptions people may have about being a mother of multiple children:
The one thing that comes to mind here is the negative connotation accompanying the statement, “I have four kids.” The facial expressions that settle on the faces of some folks are priceless. I would like to say that it doesn’t bother me, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. I’ve found myself “outing myself” and saying things like, well, I have four kids. This statement tends to invite laughter as opposed to judgment.
I’ll also add this: when I got pregnant with my oldest son, I felt a lot of shame around his conception. Eric and I had been separated for a couple of months while he trained with the Naval Fire Academy, and at some point during our reunion, I’d gotten pregnant. Keri was still nursing and hadn’t even turned a year old yet. I was embarrassed and didn’t want to tell anyone outside of Eric, of course, but when I did finally tell my mom, it yielded shock and a series of questions. Following this experience, my pregnancy with Khloe and Ezra also yielded a vague sense of unease for me. I remember always thinking, “Let me go ahead and get it out of the way,” in response to my fear of telling my parents. In hindsight, I realize my mom’s reactions were less out of judgment and more out of concern and her own fear for me. She was herself, a mom of two kids and understood the challenges that were up ahead for me, both on a financial level and an emotional one.
Reflect on the concept of favoritism or varying bonds between children and parents and how you navigate these dynamics:
While favoritism is a very real thing in many households, I also believe that during a parent-child relationship, children don’t always understand a parent’s thoughts or actions, which could leave a child feeling uncertain and confused about how a certain situation ended. Even as adults, when things happen in our lives that we don’t fully understand, our brains will go to work for us and attempt to help us make sense of what’s happening. Sometimes, suggestions offered up by the mind are just incorrect. Personally, I’ve never heard my kids state, “ So and so is your favorite,” but I’m positive that there are times they feel my choices or my decisions regarding their lives are unfair and, to be totally transparent, they would be right. Sometimes, things are unfair because, as a mom, I get it wrong. An example of this would be during times when either me or my husband have asked my daughter to supervise the younger children or even assist with cooking. She is a compliant child and can generally be trusted. Also, these are two tasks she ordinarily enjoys, because for 1) she gets paid and 2) she enjoys cooking; however, supervising the younger kids for instance can be overwhelming, and in the past, if her siblings acted out or made a mess in the kitchen or living room, and she fails to clean it she would be the only one in trouble not them. This is unfair. It’s also unfair to expect her to do something that is ultimately my responsibility, such as supervising her siblings or cooking. She enjoys it, but it is also unfair for me to rely on her to do it simply because I am consumed with another task, or tired.
To navigate this highly possible dilemma among my children, I have scheduled dates with each child. I intentionally plan a day where for a few hours, they have my undivided attention. For instance, I have tea dates with Khloe, lunch and shopping with Keri, and play video games or watch a beloved television show with my son, EJ. They get to choose what we do, with parameters of course, and it lowers their suspicions around the topic of unfairness.
Also, I’m teaching them to express their feelings vs. subduing them because when we avoid our feelings, they show up in our behavior. For example, when a child believes that they are unheard, disbelieved, or that they can’t speak up for themselves. If they believe that every inch of their lives is controlled and regulated by an adult, or if they lack understanding around why decisions are being made without their input, they may appear compliant on the surface, but rebellion is in full swing and an over-reliance on peers and parts of their lives they can control such as their food-intake, weight, or gender become their defense. Therefore, If they feel that things are unfair, I teach them to state that feeling and follow up with why it feels unfair. This helps me understand two things: How each child interprets my parenting and how consistent or inconsistent I have been. Also, it helps the child understand their emotions; they get to see if they are interpreting their emotions with the right understanding or if their interpretation is cloudy and misinformed.
Describe the unique characteristics of each of your children and note which parent they most closely resemble:
Keri is a smart, wildly creative, intuitive, and athletic child. She has the heart to defend injustice, to help, and, unfortunately, to please. My aim with her is to challenge her to see herself as God sees her, as I see her. I try to pull out these natural characteristics that she so easily overlooks, and when she needs extra help developing a skill, I learn, and I’m right there in the trenches with her. Keri closely resembles me and my sister.
Eric- He is naturally smart, sensitive, and artistic. He plays the Trombone and has a heart for animals and souls who are otherwise unseen. He needs assurance sometimes, as it is easy for him to feel insecure or that he does not belong—a feeling I am no stranger to. I am actively assessing our relationship, decoding his behavior for the things he isn’t saying, and teaching him the importance of emotional well-being. Eric closely resembles his dad.
Khloe- She is my sassy, strong-willed, but sensitive little dancing bee! I dance so much while pregnant with her, and this girl can command any stage! She loves taking risks, easily makes friends, and loves to be apart. But also, she is highly sensitive, attempts to carry the emotional weight of her friends and me ( as her mom), and struggles to set boundaries. I’m teaching Khloe that while it is admirable to care for others and long to fight the battles of others, she is not responsible for their emotions, including me as her mom. We are also working toward recognizing her sweet spots and strengths, learning to confront areas in which she needs extra attention or support, regulating her emotions vs. bottling them, and expressing when she needs a break. Khloe closely resembles my mom and her siblings.
Lastly, Ezra: He is my vibrant, adventurous, self-expressed little four-year-old. He is so smart for his young age that his actions or even his verbalizations at times can get the best of his mom and teachers. I am learning so much about early child development and attempting to mother from a lens of child development and curiosity. Ezra closely resembles his father.
What inspired you to share your story:
This question is really hard to answer in just a few sentences because, as I stated before, motherhood is challenging, and there really is no short, cookie-cutter way of ensuring that our children turn out well and unscathed. But, to answer this question, I would point to four things:
- If I could go back and do things differently, I would first heal from the sting of trauma and its impact on my perception and worth. I believe that if my self-concept were more rooted in truth, then I would’ve known just how valuable and indispensable I am as a mom as opposed to feeling totally lost, out of alignment, and thinking I didn’t have enough of “whatever is needed,” to raise a child. If I had done this work, I likely would have better understood my own heart and state of mind, including my emotions and impulses and my natural tendency to resort to child-like coping mechanisms when life felt hard. In other words, I would have been more rooted in self-awareness and stable enough to guide my developing kids.
- I would have parented from an understanding of attachment and attunement and the role a mother plays specifically in the programming of her infant’s developing brain. This information has made a difference in how I relate to my children and interpret their behavior.
- I would lead from an awareness that children do not automatically grant us as moms the authority to parent them. Just as in any relationship, trust and safety can be eroded over time, and when this happens, attachment is lost in the relationship, rebellion, and an over-reliance on peers or a pre-occupation with escape tactics, such as video games, drugs, or the use of alcohol, and sex can result.
- I would lead with an understanding that a child does not experience a parent directly; they only experience the parenting. Therefore, attachment and environment are crucial keys to healthy development.
Based on your experiences, what are some takeaways or insights you can offer other mothers:
The secret to motherhood cannot be found in skills, techniques, or any other quick-fix approach. Contrary to what culture would have us believe, it is not found in what a mother does but in who she is to her child. As moms, we are the matrix for our children; we literally carry them in our bodies and become the vessel God chose to deliver them onto the earth. We’ve been entrusted with the formative years of their lives, not only to mold them but to reflect who God is and who he has been in our lives- a provider, a strong tower, a protector, a counselor, a friend.
While motherhood is beautiful, it is also hard. I’ve learned that I don’t have to struggle to figure things out on my own. Matthew 11:28-30 clarifies that Jesus is our map,
“Are you tired? Worn out?… Come to me. Get away with me, and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace…keep company with me, and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”
In his guidance, he will lead you to answers, he will clear up your understanding, and teach you how it’s done—but leave you with a cheat code:
- Lead with an open heart and a strong back.
- Who you are as a person is more important to your child’s development than the things you do.
- Attachment (or relationship) and the home environment are essential foundations for healthy and mature childhood development.
Lastly, curiosity is a friend, and having a secure, spiritual foundation will help you along the way.
Constance Burts is a Licensed Professional Therapist and founder of The Restorative House, a Faith-based, Intuitive Counseling Practice for Adolescent girls and Adult Women. You can find her on Instagram @therestorativehouse or Constance Elaine
About The Author
This was beautiful. Congratulations to your beautiful family.