With Mother’s Day coming up, this entire post goes out to all of you Momma’s out there hustling and getting things done. All of the things.

To the future mom struggling with infertility, invasive tests and low sperm counts. I know you’re out there… looking at all the other mom’s with fresh babies, tired eyes, and stained shirts. So envious. You go to the store for milk and toothpaste, but always end up in the baby section crying at the smell of baby powder and polka dot pacifiers. Please know you are enough. Know that he is God. Be still. The time will come, and you will be great.

To the mom-to- be who just found out, and the mom who can’t see her feet. You’re filled with excitement, anxiety, and stretch marks. Enjoy your husband in these last few months. Enjoy each other. Eat. Sleep. Sleep and sleep. If you get tired of sleeping you can always try sleeping. The beautiful days that lie ahead are pure bliss. Joy in the rawest form. Keep it quiet and lay low in these last days. Rub your belly and talk to the miracle underneath those stretch marks. Sing to them , tell them about loved one’s lost, and what color you painted their room. Just feel.

To the mom who is still wearing the 8 ½ X 11 maxi pads the hospital sent home with you two days ago. As you notice by now, time is non-existent, and conversations between you and your husband consist of poop, vomit, and whose turn it is. Relish these moments. Breathe in the long nights and dirty diapers. Your eyes will be red, you’ll bathe twice a week tops, and you’ll look like hell. But remember new mommy… you carried a human. You delivered a human from your body. Your body can make milk for Pete’s sake. You’re my hero. Don’t worry about the house, the dishes, the laundry, or the baby weight. Let people do things for you. If someone offers to come and clean your toilets, let them. Let them cook, let them clean, and let them let you sleep.

To the mom in car pool, hauling kids to Pri- Med and girl scout meetings. You somehow manage to keep ice cream frozen for hours in a hot SUV and always have band aids. To the queen of juggling time and mega phone car magnets… you amaze me. You know where everything is at all times. You’ve surpassed the diapers and sippy cup phase only to host sleep overs for 6 eight year olds, and drive three of them home at 2am because they’re homesick. Drive on, you warriors of the minivans.

To the mom waiting for your child to come back from their driving test. As you stand there overflowing with pride and thankfulness, your momma bear worries, and fears of the unspeakable take over. Right now your wading through messy rooms, tampons, sinks full of hair, and sex talks. Boyfriends, girlfriends, broken hearts, and prom dresses. You are a shelter from the storm. Their refuge from the bad days, bad grades, and uneven bangs. This is your time. Be there. Be great.

To the mom who’s watching her baby girl try on wedding dresses today, and the mom whose baby boy found the perfect ring. This is it. The moment you’ve raised them for is here. Wedding plans, flowers, and music will consume your weekends until they walk down the aisle to their new life. You’ll cry, eat cake, dance to sad songs, and watch them drive away. Bitter sweetness.

And to the Mom who’s got her bag packed, waiting for the 1am call from her baby saying “it’s time”. You’ll rush to the hospital, probably park on the curb, and wait for what seems like an eternity to count the ten toes and fingers of your first grand baby. And through tear soaked eyes you’ll look down at the human you created, looking at the human they created. Heart is full, soul is bursting, and your circle is complete.

You rulers of the uterus surprise me every day. Every sacrifice, every meal, and every single piece of clean, folded, put away laundry. Nothing you do goes unnoticed.

Master of all. Jack of none.