One part in BrenĂ© Brownâs recent Unlocking Us podcast episode had me nodding along and tearing up. Brown described the fact that weâre all moving on from the adrenaline rush we felt at the beginning of all of this toward âa collective weariness.â
All of us are weary. We are overwhelmed, we are tired, and because, as human beings, we are âhard-wired for connection,â we are sorely missing daily interactions with other humans.
Each one of us has unique challenges either brought on or exacerbated by the current state of the world. Uncertainty, fear, and weariness are weighing on us as we put on brave faces to keep our little ones feeling safe and loved.
So to every mom right now, while we can’t understand the depth of your daily struggle, we want you to know that we see you. Consider this our love letter to all moms doing their best. We hope the load lightens for all of us soon.
So to every mom right now, while we can’t understand the depth of your daily struggle, we want you to know that we see you. Consider this our love letter to all moms doing their best. We hope the load lightens for all of us soon.
To the pregnant mom attending virtual childbirth classes, worrying about going to doctorâs appointments, and resetting her birth plan expectations in this new reality, we see you.
To the first-time mom struggling with sleep deprivation, cluster feedings, and postpartum emotions. Who was counting on in-person visitors, but who is trying to accept what help her virtual village can give, even if they canât stop by to hold the baby while she showers, we see you.
To the mom with a toddler at her feet and a baby in her arms needing some place to go and someone to talk to outside the walls of her home, we see you.
To the woman struggling to become a mom whose fertility plans were put on hold and who is hurting as each day passes without progress on her path towards motherhood, we see you.
To the mom of a child with special needs trying to emulate her childâs teacher or therapist, but who may be feeling her own patience and expertise are falling short, we see you.
To the mom trying to balance work and motherhood adding childcare, distance learning, and more to her already overflowing plate, we see you.
To the single mom doing this all on her own, from risking judgmental looks during grocery store trips with her kids to risking her own mental health because, while sheâs used to self-care being at the bottom of her to-do list, now it’s moved completely off the page, we see you.
To the foster mom adjusting to changing guidelines and virtual visitations while trying to maintain a calm and safe space for the children in her care, we see you.
To the mom of a child who is immunocompromised or has a pre-existing condition imploring her neighbors to listen to the recommendations and the warnings that will keep her child safe, we see you.
To the mom living in a multi-generational household doing the extra cleaning, disinfecting, and praying her kids donât unintentionally make their grandparents sick, we see you.
To the mom far from her parents, calling often, hoping theyâre making the right decisions to stay safe, we see you.
To the mom who just lost someoneâher parent, her friend, her family member, her child, her unborn babyâfeeling like she has to bury her grief while everyone is preoccupied with the worldâs worries, we see you.
To the mom battling anxiety, turning off the news, trying to use her practiced strategies and teletherapy when it all becomes too much, we see you.
To the mom separated from her kids, whether through deployment, custody arrangements, self-quarantine, or otherwise, who lives for FaceTime calls, notes, and updates to calm her aching heart, we see you.
To the frontline medical mom shouldering the burden of the world, leaving her job with mask imprints on her face and hunger in her belly, aching to hug and kiss her kids again without worry, we see you.
To the teacher mom tending to her own kids while missing her students. Trying her best to recreate the magic that happens in her classroom through connections on a computer screen. Fretting over her students who struggle, who might not have access to technology, or even enough to eat, we see you.
To the small business owner mom adapting her company to survive while the financial security of her and her employeesâ families weighs heavy on her mind, we see you.
To the furloughed mom wavering between appreciation for unexpected extra time home with her kids and uncertainty about whether she has enough money saved or will have a job to go back to, we see you.
To the mom whose partner just lost their job trying to be emotionally supportive for them while accepting sheâs now solely responsible for her familyâs income, we see you.
To the mom with a relationship on the rocks knowing this time together could mean a make-or-break moment for her family, we see you.
To the essential worker mom commuting on empty streets or public transit to do the important work her community needs. Feeling grateful for a paycheck but hoping sheâs done enough to protect herself and not put her own family at risk, we see you.
To the mom parenting with an essential worker partner missing the support she counts on while stepping up in every way, we see you.
To the mom who never imagined applying for unemployment joining the millions of people frustrated with the process and stressed about their futures, we see you.
To the mom mourning the milestone rituals like a first birthday party or kindergarten graduation, learning itâs OK to be sad about what she’s missing and grateful for what she has at the same time, we see you.
To all of the moms loving their kids hard, keeping them safe, and doing their best without knowing what the future holds, we see you. We salute you. Weâre here for you as you keep on going.
Read More: A Letter to My Children During This Time in Our Lives