This is for the mothers.
This is for the mothers mothering through a pandemic.
For the mothers working full time and coming home to work full time after working full time.
This is for the mothers who are staying at home 24/7 raising babies in a pandemic and unable to feel an ounce of normal.
This is for the mothers who are right now crying in a corner somewhere in their home because homeschooling 3 kids and parenting a newborn is absolutely exhausting.
This is for the Black mother of Black sons.
This is for the mothers who can’t get more than 2 consecutive hours of sleep.
This is for the mothers who are heavily struggling financially.
This is for the mother who lost her mother.
For the mother who is parenting alone.
For the mother of children with a disability or sickness.
This is for the Asian mother.
This is for the mother raising babies that were born of another mother.
This is for the mothers who never wanted to be a mother but are learning what it means to lead from love every day.
This is for the mothers who know loss.
For the ones begging to become a mother.
For the older mothers.
And the young mothers.
For the mothers who are reclaiming their ancestral roots and weaving them into the sacredness of motherhood.
This is for those with incarcerated mothers.
For those with sick mothers.
For the sick mother.
This is for the mother who doesn’t fit the typical “mother” criteria.
For the mother who is hurting.
The mother who is dying.
And the mother who is desperately trying.
I see you, mother. I see you.