It’s about the village you make
It can be easy to feel like you are doing motherhood alone, especially as every other reel is telling you the secret to surviving life with a baby is ‘a nanny’ (cue the eye rolls). But your village is what you make it; it may not look ‘traditional’, but it’s powerful. Your sisters, cousins, neighbours or NCT friends can quickly become your co-parents, your emotional support and your cheerleaders.
You’ll never be able to replace your mother, but expanding your village gives you a support system which can be energising and comforting. So this Mother’s Day, I’m going to focus on celebrating the amazing women who make up my ‘village’: the friends I made through pregnancy who got me through the first year of motherhood with late-night WhatsApps while we were both up feeding; my sister who is truly my co-parent and my children’s second mum; my 23-year-old niece who calls everyday to speak to her godson; all of my children’s godmothers who show up for them like they’re their own.
Build new traditions grounded in your nostalgia
Mother’s Day can be triggering because you remember exactly what you’re missing: brunches, shopping trips, long phone calls. So instead of trying to recreate what can’t be recreated, build new traditions that honour what you loved.
My mum baked the most incredible cakes – never perfect, always delicious. I’m not a natural baker, but on days like this, I get in the kitchen with my own little family. The cakes are fine, but the stories, the laughter, the memories we make while reminiscing slowly soften the ache. Nostalgia becomes warmth and replaces pain.
Social media can feel brutal on Mother’s Day. The tributes, the reels, the “couldn’t have survived without her” captions – they can make you feel like your experience is something to hide.
But sharing your truth is connective, your story matters and telling it helps you own it! Use Mother’s Day to spark conversation; offer a shoulder for other motherless mothers to cry and connect on; let others know they aren’t alone if Mother’s Day feels dark and heavy. I found this especially true for mums out there who aren’t holding their babies in their arms, but in their hearts. Following the loss of my first two pregnancies, I quietly ‘celebrated’ Mother’s Day with my husband, and said a silent wish every year that next year would be the one we were holding our baby. Those years were tough, but he would buy me a card from the dog, and though it felt silly, it got me through. I also started sharing my story at work, and started the Fertility and Baby Loss DE&I network with another colleague, who is now a close friend and a big part of my village.
Christina and I have also recently launched an Instagram community, @thevillagewemake_, to share our mothering journey without the traditional ‘village’, to help connect with other mums going through the same.