There’s a certain kind of quiet strength in you — the kind that keeps going, even when everything feels like it’s falling apart. This is for the mother who’s holding it all together, even when her own heart feels heavy. You don’t have to be everything, all the time.

Fertility treatments, health battles, and quiet heartbreak. I’m learning to trust God even when the process feels heavy.

“There’s a kind of faith that only grows in the unknown. This reflection is for the waiting seasons-the ones where control slips away, and trust is all we have left. “

I didn’t plan to wake up at 3:30 a.m., but maybe it was never about the plan. It was about presence. A moment where the weight I carried began to lift—not because it disappeared, but because God met me in the quiet. This post is a reminder that sometimes, the stillness is sacred.

No one tells you how quickly everything changes after the baby stage. One minute, they’re clinging to you for comfort; the next, they’re insisting “I do it myself!” Toddlerhood is loud, unpredictable, and sometimes overwhelming—but it’s also tender, hilarious, and full of little moments you’ll want to bottle up forever. I wish I had known how much I’d grow alongside him, how much patience I’d learn, and how deeply I’d feel every one of his big emotions right alongside my own.

This morning started at 3:30 AM. My toddler was wide awake, my body was begging for rest, and my migraine whispered its arrival. Somewhere between rocking, meds, and him climbing over me like a jungle gym, he kissed my cheek and said, “Mom, you’re my hero.”

Exhausted and overwhelmed, I remembered—this chaos is still sacred. This little boy is still my gift.

A soft place to land when your heart feels heavy, your hands are full, and your spirit needs reminding-you are not alone.

“Motherhood is messy, beautiful, and sometimes it feels like survival-and that’s okay.”

“Some days, the hardest work is just being gentle with yourself.”

“A real and honest look at surviving school breaks with a toddler-routines thrown out the window, naps skipped, but love (and exhaustion) still shining through.”