Motherhood is a lifelong journey—one that evolves constantly as we and our children grow. Life itself is always changing, and motherhood is no different. We’re always figuring out what works, learning from mistakes, and making adjustments along the way. My journey began the moment I held my tiny 6-pound baby girl in my arms. It felt like being hit by a brick of overwhelming love—a love so profound I didn’t even know it existed. It’s impossible to fully describe, sacred and surreal, yet it happens anew with every child. Just when I think I couldn’t possibly love another in the same way, it hits me the moment we meet, knocking me off my feet all over again.
I was completely in over my head with that first baby—and honestly, I still am—but I’ve never considered quitting. My husband and I share a bond that started long before we met: we both lost our moms the same summer, when we were thirteen. Though we didn’t know each other then, our moms are buried just down the hill from each other in the same cemetery. It’s a bittersweet connection. The first time we introduced our kids to their grandmothers, it was within thirty feet of each other in a cemetery—not exactly the idyllic grandma-meeting we’d imagined. There were no mothers in the delivery room, no one to help rock a newborn while I slept, no advice offered or unsolicited. Looking back, maybe that was a blessing in disguise.
We were both nineteen when our first daughter arrived. No shotgun wedding here—just a quiet realization that life was moving forward, and we were ready to embrace it. After my C-section, my husband went back to work the very next day, taking on a second part-time job so I could stay home. For 21 years now, I’ve been a stay-at-home mom, pouring as much energy and love into raising my children as I might have poured into any career—though I admit, jet fighter pilot still sounds fun in another life. Each of us knows what’s right for us; for me, nothing felt more fulfilling than raising my children. Still, some days are messy. I yell too much. I get overwhelmed. I am human.
The minute I met our first daughter, I felt like I had found my true calling. It took years of growth and soul-searching to accept that being a mom is not a small thing—it is a life-changing, sacred responsibility. I was insecure in so many ways, not just as a mother, but as a young adult trying to find my place in the world. Those early twenties are confusing; I wouldn’t want to relive them. But over time, I’ve learned and continue to learn, growing as a mother, a wife, and a person.
I worried constantly. My first two children survived despite my steep learning curve—thank goodness! I learned hard lessons, like securing furniture and understanding that each child has their own “currency” for love and discipline. I second-guessed myself over everything: whether they were behaving “enough,” whether I should spank or time out, whether they were developing as quickly as other kids. Potty training my oldest before two? A lesson in humility. I created so much unnecessary stress over things that, in hindsight, were trivial. And yet, those small trials shaped me. I learned not to let others’ opinions make me feel inadequate or guilty for the size, noise, mess, or chaos of our family. My children were never robots to be molded—they were humans to nurture.
During those early years, I devoured books, shows, and advice from seasoned moms. The common thread became clear: kids are individuals. Each responds differently, acts differently, and grows differently. As adults, we all know this intuitively, yet I had to relearn it in parenting. Understanding this, working through my own childhood issues, and embracing the unique qualities of each child clarified my role: I wanted to raise happy kids—not perfect ones. True happiness begins with being comfortable in your own skin, confident in who you are, and free to follow your heart.
Our home is a place where every voice matters. Opinions, feelings, and emotions are valid if expressed respectfully. Sure, our household is full of sarcasm, snide remarks, and loud disagreements—but it’s also filled with learning, forgiveness, and growth. Mistakes happen. Apologies are given. Lessons are learned. Sometimes it takes months or years for real change to occur, but progress does happen, and giving up is never an option.
Now, with children of varying ages, our youngest has brought a different joy—the sweet calm of a baby and toddler. Exhaustion is real, especially in those early years, but there is also unparalleled joy in cuddles, giggles, and discovering the world through tiny eyes. Sleep is essential. Let the dishes wait. Nap when they nap. Learn to savor the fleeting moments before they grow up. Teaching older kids involves guiding them to be kind, empathetic, and responsible—a lifelong effort that never ends.
I want my children to be good people, not perfect ones. I model my own mistakes, apologize when I falter, and show that growth comes from learning, not perfection. Failure is inevitable, but it’s how we respond that defines us. My role as a mom is to guide them to discover who God knows them to be, help them cultivate their talents, and encourage them to use those gifts for others. Everyone has something special to offer, and I hope they understand that their worth is never diminished by someone else’s achievements.
Ultimately, we wanted to build in our family what neither of us fully had growing up: unconditional love, acceptance of individuality, and lifelong bonds. There are fights, messes, and sharp words, but with consistency, love, and commitment, our family remains tightly knit. I envision large family gatherings, birthdays, and celebrations that span generations—not perfect, but real and full of love.
I never set out to change the world. I only wanted to be a mom. But in creating a family, I did change the world—for seven little people. I gave them love, guidance, and a home where they could grow safely and confidently. In doing so, they taught me who I am, my greatest teachers and achievements. I am their mom—and that, I’ve learned, is one of the most extraordinary things a person can ever be.
