From One Mother to Another

Motherhood is such a dynamic, life-altering, heart-cracked-wide-open kind of event.

It breaks you down and rebuilds you all at once.

It is full of duality: confusion and clarity, ache and awe, exhaustion and limitless love. And ultimately, evolution.

A mother’s love is grossly understated. It knows no bounds. We change ourselves forever, both internally and externally, all for the love.

Our lives permanently changed, pieces of us permanently imprinted onto another soul.

And somewhere in the quiet moments, many of us ask ourselves the same question over and over again:

Who are we outside of motherhood?

We search for answers while desperately trying to hold on to versions of ourselves that no longer exist… and perhaps were never meant to.

So we crack ourselves wide open.

We deplete our bodies, our minds, and our emotions. All for the love.

And then, somehow, because we have been emptied, we are able to rebuild.

We rebuild as entirely new people. Softer in some ways, stronger in others. More certain. More grounded. More aware of what truly matters.

A woman once cracked wide open ~ figuratively and literally ~ becoming steady enough to carry it all.

And still, despite all of it, we build the boat.

We hold on tightly to the tiny hands, the sleepy weight on our chest, the version of them that needs us completely. Knowing all the while that one day, the boat we built so carefully will be ready to set sail without us.

That’s the heartbreak of motherhood.

And somehow, also its beauty.

It’s not talked about enough. The mind, body, and soul-altering experience of bringing a child into this world.

But I think there’s a quiet understanding between mothers. A thread tying us all together. No matter how different our stories may be, one mother can look at another and simply know.

We will never be the same again.

And maybe that is the greatest gift of all.

My favorite part of motherhood is witnessing wonder in its purest form through Benji’s eyes.

The way he gets genuinely excited about the smallest things — flowers, dogs passing by, a familiar song, the ocean. The biiigggg, heavy gasps he lets out when something delights him completely. The kind of excitement that takes over his whole body. He gets truly giddy, and somehow, watching that brings me back to life a little too.

I love watching him absorb the world around him and slowly begin to recall it back to me. Stopping to smell flowers because he remembers to. Reaching for things that once made him smile.

There’s something so sacred about realizing you are watching a human become a person in real time.

When we asked mothers about their favorite part of motherhood, many of their answers echoed the same quiet truths.

That presence matters more than perfection.

That unconditional love is real.

That motherhood feels like watching life peak and begin all over again at the very same time.

Some spoke about togetherness: bedtime stories, crowded kitchen counters, family dinners, laughter echoing through a home. Others spoke about becoming the safe place their children run to for comfort, security, and love.

Many described the joy of watching their children become themselves. Watching them achieve goals they once thought impossible. Watching them laugh so hard they can barely breathe. Watching them experience the world with wonder so pure it changes the way we experience it too.

The birds chirping outside suddenly sound beautiful again. Flowers become fascinating again. Dinosaurs become real again. Small moments become sacred again.

Motherhood, in so many ways, is a return to wonder.

It is built-in best friends. Endless laughter. Tiny hands reaching for yours. A child believing your every word is brilliant. It is exhaustion and pride and nostalgia all existing at once.

It is watching your children fail and succeed, cry and laugh, fight and love; becoming entirely themselves right before your eyes.

It is realizing that maybe the laundry can wait.

That maybe the truly important thing is spending the afternoon searching the backyard for “big roars” instead.

And perhaps that’s what ties mothers together most of all — the understanding that while motherhood changes everything, it also gives something back.

A softer way of seeing the world. A deeper way of loving within it.

So, from one mother to another:

What is your favorite part of motherhood?