To the Mama Who's Winging It
- Grace Fontenot
- Jun 1
- 2 min read
You are not alone.
Though the mirror looks foggy
and the path unclear,
You're walking forward,
shaky, brave: still here.
You look up, and your body's changed.
Tiger stripes line your hips with grace.
A C-scar smiles where life began.
That stubborn weight? It still has a place.
But you?
You're still sexy.
Still sacred. Still fire.
A woman remade, not less but higher.
You're searching for your name again,
the one not wrapped in child or chore,
Trying to be everything,
When you're not even sure
What "everything" is anymore.
You're winging it, yes.
But that's still flight.
Even in doubt,
you rise each night.
Through late nights, no sleep, and lullaby cries,
With swollen red eyes and soft, tired sighs.
You sway in the dark, a lull in your chest,
Humming hope while stealing rest.
Whether by plan
or twist of fate,
You brought forth life.
And that's no mistake.
A beautiful soul,
now clinging to you,
Needing your presence
more than the news.
So don't let the noise steal the day.
Hold that small hand
and let the world wait.
But oh, don't vanish
in motherhood's tide.
Don't forget the fire
you carry inside.
For dreams still bloom
beneath the skin.
The woman you are
is still within.
Yes, the calendar overflows,
games and playdates,
late-night shows,
Bills to pay and
meals to make,
But grace, sweet grace,
keeps you awake.
Supermom, somehow, you do it all.
Stumble and soar,
but never fall.
And if you do
just for a spell,
You rise again.
You know that well.
Stay present.
This time, it will race.
"Mommy" becomes "Mom,"
becomes "' Sup, Ma?"
But still the same face, they'll always adore
saying, "I love you, Mom."
And they'll mean it,
more and more.
So keep your head high,
Take that self-care day.
Eat that ice cream
At 10 am, if you may.
You deserve joy.
You deserve rest.
You are working your hardest.
You are doing your best.
The world, dear Mama,
is not out of reach.
It waits for you kindly
just beyond the breach.
Love Always and Forever, Grace




Comments