Motherhood isn’t one-size-fits-all. It’s layered, personal, and constantly evolving. So this is for you—wherever you find yourself today.

To the Mom Who Is Still Trying

I see your heart—the quiet ache that comes in waves. The strength it takes to hope again, to try again, to believe again. You’re doing something incredibly brave. Whether you’re trying to conceive, rebuild, or simply make it through another hard day—you are not alone. Your journey matters. Your efforts matter. And you are more than worthy, no matter what today looks like.

To the Mom Who Just Found Out

Congratulations. Whether you’re feeling joy, shock, anxiety—or all three—your feelings are valid. Your life just changed with a line on a test, or a word from a doctor, or a phone call that made it all real. You’re about to begin a journey full of unknowns, but one thing is certain: you already have what it takes. Trust yourself. You’re going to be an incredible mom.

To the Mom Who Is In the Thick of It

You’re knee-deep in diapers, dishes, and meltdowns. The days blur together, and the nights are short—or sleepless. You wonder if anyone notices how much you’re carrying. I want you to know: this part is hard, and that doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong. You’re showing up. That matters more than you know. One day you’ll look back and realize you were stronger than you gave yourself credit for.

To the Mom Who Is In Postpartum

Your body feels unfamiliar. Your emotions shift without warning. You’re adjusting to a new baby, and a new version of yourself. It’s okay if you don’t feel okay. It’s okay to grieve the parts of you that feel lost while you’re still grateful for the miracle in your arms. Healing takes time—physically and emotionally. You’re not behind. You’re not broken. You’re becoming. Be gentle with yourself.

To the Mom Who Is Missing Someone Today

Grief has a way of showing up quietly—and then all at once. Maybe it’s a parent, a baby, a partner, or even an old version of yourself. I want you to know it’s okay to carry both love and sorrow. To celebrate and still ache. Your pain is valid. You don’t have to move on—you’re allowed to move with it. And today, you are held. Even if it doesn’t feel that way.

To all the moms: You are seen. You are not alone. You are doing better than you think.

With love,
Bumpdate