By Jewel Quackenbush
Twenty-seven years ago, I became a mother.
I didn’t know it then, but in that single, holy moment, my heart permanently relocated to someone else’s body. I was young, ambitious, unsure. I was still trying to figure out how to care for myself let alone a whole new life that would one day call me “Mom.”
And yet, motherhood met me where I was. With its soft chaos and sacred calling, it shaped me. It raised me while I raised her.
Mother’s Day rolls around every May, inviting flowers, cards, and tearjerking commercials that somehow always feature the perfect kitchen lighting. But real motherhood? It doesn’t fit in a vase. And it certainly doesn’t expire at midnight on the second Sunday of May.
Because you are a mother 365 days a year.
You are a nurse without credentials, a therapist without a couch. You’re an accountant, a chauffeur, a chef, a negotiator, a life coach, a spiritual advisor, a bedtime storyteller, and a walking, talking search engine for every misplaced backpack and broken heart.
You are also an educator, a guidance counselor, and a fierce protector.
You are always on. Even when you’re off the clock.
And let’s be clear your gender does not define your capacity to mother.
To the fathers, uncles, grandfathers, and brothers who have stepped fully into mothering roles with tenderness and grit: we see you too. Because nurturing is not a gendered trait. It’s a human one. And when love calls you to show up, you answer even if the world doesn’t quite know what to call you.
Whether you’re a mom by biology, adoption, spirit, or circumstance… whether you’re a full-time professional, stay-at-home warrior, or juggling both with one arm while stirring spaghetti with the other you are doing the sacred work of shaping the future.
And that matters.
Did you know Mother’s Day in the U.S. has roots as far back as the 19th century?
Activist Ann Reeves Jarvis organized “Mother’s Day Work Clubs” to support mothers in caring for their children. But it was her daughter, Anna Jarvis, who lobbied for an official holiday to honor the sacrifices mothers make every day. In 1914, President Woodrow Wilson signed it into national observance. Ironically, Anna later fought against the commercialization of Mother’s Day—because it wasn’t meant to be a marketing tool. It was meant to be a reverent pause.
So today, let’s reclaim that pause.
Let’s acknowledge that motherhood is not one-size-fits-all. It’s not just about giving birth it’s about giving. Giving love, energy, time, wisdom, space, structure, comfort, correction, and everything in between.
There are thousands of books on parenting.
What to Expect When You’re Expecting.
The First 12 Months.
Parenting with Purpose.
Volumes written by brilliant people with impressive credentials.
And still, nothing in those pages prepares you for the weight of holding a child who relies on you for everything.
Nothing explains the lump in your throat the first time they say your name.
No manual walks you through the moment when you’re running on two hours of sleep and instinct alone.
Because motherhood real motherhood is a lived experience.
You don’t read your way into it.
You become it. One choice, one sacrifice, one unshakable act of love at a time.
To every mother who has ever questioned, “Am I doing this right?” let me lovingly say: You are.
Because the best kind of mothering doesn’t come from perfection.
It comes from presence.
It comes from showing up.
It comes from continuing on, even when your tank is empty, and your coffee’s gone cold.
To the new moms holding everything together with a baby wipe and a whispered prayer…
To the grandmother’s parenting for the second time…
To the women who mother without a title…
To the dads doing double duty…
To the bonus moms, the auntie-moms, the grieving moms, the trying-to-become moms…
To every mother who has wiped tears, soothed storms, and dared to raise leaders in a chaotic world,
We see you. We thank you. We honor you.
And to the children reading this if you want to lead in life, start by honoring the ones who first led you. Your first coach, first teacher, first safe space, first “yes you can” when the world said no.
Motherhood is not for the faint of heart.
There are days we cry silently behind closed doors.
Then we dry our faces, square our shoulders, and do it all over again.
Because we were built for this.
If you’re at the end of your rope today, tie a knot. Hold on.
You’re not alone. You are needed. You are irreplaceable.
You are the story, the shelter, the song, and the strength.
And if I had to do it all over again—I would.
Because I have learned, I have grown and witnessed the fruit of my labor in the life I helped shape.
Happy Mother’s Day to every kind of mother.
With love and thunder,
Jewel Quackenbush
Chief Vision Officer | Quackenbush Coaching, LLC
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