To the mothers who mothered from the depths of their souls — Happy Mother’s Day.

To the mothers who never let their babies cry alone, not even for a minute. Who held them close, night after night, even when their own bodies ached for sleep. Who breastfed on demand, not by instruction but by instinct —following their baby’s lead, even when it meant losing touch with their own needs.

To the mothers who chose connection over convention. Who co-slept because separation felt unbearable. Who were told they were "spoiling" their babies, but knew — deep in their soul — that presence was never a mistake.

To the mothers who were so attuned they felt every tremble of their baby’s cry, as if it echoed through their own nervous system. Who tried to regulate their babies nervous system when they didn't know how to regulate their own...but didn't give up.

To the mothers who never got a break, whose in-laws scoffed, whose families offered no support, who had no village — just their intuition, their body, and their love. Who felt isolated, misunderstood, and judged —For loving too fiercely, for holding too long, for not following the “rules.”

To the mothers who did it differently —Who bore the weight of conscious parenting without praise, who suffered silently under the heaviness of midnight doubt, lying awake, wondering if they’d done enough, if they'd done it “right.”

To the mothers who gave until there was nothing left to give, then kept giving anyway. Whose children may never truly understand the depth of what was given, the cost, the sacrifice, the radical tenderness.

You won’t find your story on greeting cards. But today — I see you. And I honour you.

Your mothering may have been invisible to the world, but it shaped a nervous system, built a foundation of safety, and planted seeds of love so deep they will bloom for a lifetime.

Happy Mother’s Day to the mothers who gave their all — quietly, bravely, relentlessly.

You are seen.

You are felt.

You are honoured.

Mel x