Hey, Momma, I see you. I see you tucked into yourself in the corner, trying to hold it together while fighting back tears. It is okay. You are not alone.

Hey Momma, today you are celebrating a dear child’s birthday with a friend. At some point, you quietly step away to hide your tears. I have done that too. You smile, you celebrate, you clap for the candles and the presents, but inside your heart is breaking a little.

You watch other children grow, bloom, and do things your child cannot yet do, or may never do in the same way. And while you are genuinely happy for them, you are grieving too.

You cry because your baby does not understand opening presents.
You cry because you have to explain to other children why your little one does not want to play or hold hands.
You cry because milestones that come so easily for others can feel so far away for your child.

Momma, you are not alone.

I cry more often than most people know. There are days when tears rise over the smallest things. Sometimes it is hearing a three-year-old say, “Thank you,” or “I love you.” Sometimes it is a moment no one else would even notice.

There is a lump in your throat, a boulder on your chest, and an ache in your heart that is hard to explain. I know that feeling. Some days are better than others. Some days you want to shut the whole world out so no one sees the tears. Sometimes that feels easier.

And the hardest part is that it can all exist at once.

You can be full of joy for another child and still ache for your own.
You can celebrate with others and still carry grief.
You can love your child fiercely and still mourn the things that are hard.

That does not make you ungrateful. It makes you human.

We want the very best for our children. We want to know they will be okay. We want them to have joy, connection, belonging, and a bright future. But getting there can feel exhausting. Every day can feel like another uphill climb. Some days it feels like you will never reach the top.

But Momma, it is okay.

Your child is still a gift.
Your child is still full of beauty.
Your child is still capable of changing the world.

They may not say “I love you,” but they may give the kind of hug that says everything.

They may not understand the excitement of opening presents, but they may light up an entire room when their favorite song comes on.
They may have gifts, talents, and ways of seeing the world that others could only dream of.

When my son laughs, I cry different kinds of tears.

The struggles may not disappear. The hurdles may not vanish. And there will likely always be moments that catch you off guard and bring tears to your eyes. That is okay too.

It is okay to admit this is hard.
It is okay to step away and breathe.
It is okay to feel the weight of being a special mama to a special child.

You are not alone.

And when the tears come, remember this:

Your child does not need a perfect momma.
Your child needs a momma who loves deeply, stays present, and keeps showing up.

And you, Momma, are doing more beautifully than you know.

After all, Normal is just a dryer setting.

Do justly. Love with mercy. Walk humbly.