dear mom. a mother's day letter for every kind of mom.

Dear mom,

No I’m not just writing to my own mom but i’m writing to every woman who’s child/children calls them “mom”. This morning I woke up to the sound of my daughter playing in her crib and belting out in joyful laughter. I stopped using a camera monitor a few months ago and can only imagine she was lying on her back with her legs up in the air rolling back and forth. This lasted for about 5 minutes until she was ready for someone to come get her out of bed so she could go play. My husband popped out of bed to greet her good morning and I tried going back to sleep. I stayed up until 3 AM working on Mother’s Day gifts. My 2019 MacBook completely broken down on me and I’ve been quite behind on work, projects and my writing. Until last night, I decided to bite the bullet and purchase a new laptop. After not having one for almost 2 weeks, it was natural that I had so much to do.

He changed her diaper, got her dressed and took her out the house. Suddenly, the house was silent and I could go back to sleep. But when the sound of the neighbor’s lawn mower went off, I realized that was my cue to get up on 4 hours of sleep and make the most of this time. I made the bed, stretched my body on it, did some rounds of breathing practices on it and I prayed on it. Thank goodness for blackout curtains because I could still sit in the dark, soak in the crystaling sound of silence and be intimate with God. I moved to the edge of the bed and planted my feet on the ground feeling a heart full of gratitude. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and had a moment with the woman I saw in the mirror. Instead of another passing moment, I met her eyes with presence and a warmth washed over me. I let out a smile as I took a true moment to embrace what I saw in front of me, instead of skipping quickly to routines and moving on from one thing to the next. I saw her, really saw her in the “wow you’ve come a long way” kind of way. My goodness, she’s grown up a lot. I remember when we were just 21 years old before the husband, the house, the family, the business and the responsibilities and now look where we are.

It’s a full life.

And I’m so proud of us.

I moved on to brush my teeth and gave myself a mini facial, taking the time to massage my face and put some serum on. I went to the kitchen and noticed my husband didn’t have time to do his usual and brew himself coffee so I got the pot started. While waiting, I decided I’ve make myself a nice frothy maple syrup latte to accompany me while I get myself ready for the day. I love the cozy feeling of drinking something warm in the morning. While I was getting ready, I thought about some of my incredible mom friends and sent them each voice memos to tell them how much they inspire me and it lead to the inner urge to hop on my laptop and write a little something to other moms too.

To Every Kind of Mom, On This Day and Every Day

Dear Mom,
Yes—you, the one reading this.
I want to say Happy Mother’s Day, but even more than that, I want you to know:

Motherhood lives in the nights you’re up with a sick child, when your body aches from exhaustion but you rock them anyway. It lives in the cries you soothe before you’ve even wiped the crust from your own eyes.

It’s in the messy pineapple buns.
The stained pajamas.
The sagging, sore, breastfed boobs.
The broken, chipped nails and unshaved legs.
The hot tears.

It found in the chest tightening, heart wrenching moments when your child goes through a bad accident or is sick and you can offer your comfort through their pain.

It’s in the way you hold a child’s world together with nothing but sheer will and unconditional love.

It is in the days when you’re touched out, worn down, and craving just a sliver of time for yourself—but still, somehow, you have the strength to keep showing up. It’s in the quiet, often unseen acts of love: wiping noses and butts, packing lunches, signing forms for kid activities, and remembering the small details that make your child feel safe and seen.

Mother’s Day is in the way you hold space; for the tantrums, the bursts of energy and joyous moments. It’s in your resilience, your ability to stretch and give and love even when you feel like you have nothing left to give. It’s in the way you rise up in the morning after nights filled with broken sleep. It’s in the gentle words you whisper when no one else is around to hear them.

It’s in the sacrifices no one thanks you for, the strength you never knew you had, and the softness you refuse to lose even when the world tells you to toughen up. It’s in the mundane and the magical moments, all wrapped into one beautiful, chaotic, sacred experience of being “mom.”

And so, from one mom to another, I want to remind you that you’re doing Holy work.

Not perfect work—because there’s no such thing.

But wholehearted work.

And that matters the most.

And if you’re hurting this Mother’s Day—
If your arms feel empty, if your heart is grieving, if you’re burnt out beyond words,
I see you.

To the mom mourning a child, or the child she hoped to have—
To the mom walking through postpartum anxiety or depression—
To the single mom who doesn’t get a break—
To the emergency room mom praying every breath into her baby’s lungs—
To the busy soccer mom trying to find her peace—
To the estranged mom whose children are distant—
To the tired, the lonely, the healing, the trying-again—
To the moms mothering with invisible scars—

You are no less a mother.
You are no less worthy of celebration.
You are not forgotten.

Today is for you, but so is every day you choose love when it’s hard.
So is every day you rise when you’d rather hide.
So is every day you give even when you feel empty.

Because motherhood is not just one kind of story—it is a thousand quiet acts of strength, courage and willpower that no one sees but God.

Motherhood is not for the faint of heart.

It will break you and crack you wide open but it will build you into someone stronger.

Motherhood is a calling that requires guts, grace and grit.

Motherhood demands everything from you yet gives in a way that lasts forever.

What a true honor it is to be called a mom.

What a true honor it is to be a mother alongside you.

I would take the sleepless nights and the sacrifices and everything that comes with it over and over again.

So today, and every day, I hope you feel celebrated—not because of what you do, but because of who you are.

A woman who loves with everything she has.

A woman who continues to rise, even on the hardest days.

A woman whose love changes the world around her—one child, one moment, one breath at a time.

Alright, looks like I need to wrap up re-do my make up again before we head out for the day.

There was no way I could write this and keep my eyes dry 😂

Also I have been working on a writing piece sharing my birth story, it’s taking me months so hopefully I can wrap it up and share that soon too.

With all my love,
A fellow mama on the journey with you.

P.S. Don’t forget to make yourself a cup of something warm go into a quiet room and breathe today. You’ve earned every sip.