Dear mama, I see you.

I see you, sitting on your bed, stealing a moment to yourself. I see the tears falling, a sense of failure weighing down on your shoulders. Why can’t the kids stop fighting? Why won’t the baby stop crying? Why is the toddler so clingy today? Why is it so hard just to pee alone, to cook a meal, to clean the house?

I see you in the crowded supermarket. Your child kicking up a fuss, and you, trying to avoid a full-blown meltdown. I see the redness on your cheeks deepening as you wish you could be swallowed up in a hole. I see your patience, which has already been tested a hundred times today, waning. I see your crushed spirit.

I see you at the park, checking your phone to just have one moment’s break from the demands of toddlers. You wonder whether others are judging you for not having your undivided attention on your child. Little do they know that your mama heart and eyes can spot your child and hear his voice in a heartbeat. 

I see you, waiting at the doctor’s office. Trying to hush your kids in the waiting room. Trying to silence the worrying thoughts inside your head. Hoping and praying that a doctor will come soon and no one will have a serious medical problem.

I see you, herding your tribe into church. You look stunning, mama, but I see the pain beneath your smile. Nobody realizes how difficult it was to get your family ready this morning. Nobody saw the tantrums or the tears at home.

I see you at the mall. You walk past every clothing store and don’t even bother to go in. You’re tired of trying on outfit after outfit, only to be reminded that your body no longer looks and feels like it used to. You know you desperately need new clothes, but you can’t face that today.

I see you dropping your child off at kindergarten. You’re late, as usual. You’re quite flustered—it’s been a tough morning. I see your child missing her jacket and you hope that no one looks into her lunch box to see your choice of snacks today.

I see you looking up those workouts on Pinterest. Saving them for later, for when you have enough time, energy and motivation. I see you searching for local gyms online, wondering if you will have the courage to sign up.

I see you getting ready for your date night. It’s been so long since you’ve felt beautiful and appreciated, and you long to feel pretty as you head out to dinner. Instead, your clothes lay in a heap on the floor. Again you’re reminded that your body has changed, and the discouragement is overwhelming. The tears, that are now so familiar, threaten to spill over once again.

I see you, mama.

You are trying your very best to juggle all the demands motherhood is throwing at you. 

You are doing your very best, and it somehow never feels enough.

You thought you would thrive in motherhood, but instead it feels like you are barely surviving.

Dear mama, you are not alone. You are not unseen. Your cries are not unheard.

Did you know, dear mama, that God chose you to be a mom. He hand-picked you. You. He knew that no-one else on earth would do. That those children needed you. YOU.

If only you knew what your children thought of you . . .

You are the world to those little people. In their eyes, there is nothing you can’t do. In their eyes, you are the greatest human who has ever walked the face of the earth. You are the definition of all that is beautiful and good. You are more than enough for them.

Dear mama, you are not alone. There is a whole group of us out here, fighting the same fight.

We’re in this together. Reach out. Lean on us. Let those tears fall. Don’t be ashamed if you are struggling.

It is in our weakness that God shows Himself strong.

From one mama to another, I see you.

Dear mama, we’re in this together.

Sina Steele

Sina is a wife, mom and creative from New Zealand. Along with raising her daughters, she enjoys working from home in social media, design and writing. She serves alongside her husband at a Christian missions-training college in New Zealand. She loves encouraging women to step out in faith, and you can find her writing ministry over at Her Mustard Faith.