Blooming into motherhood

Some days, surviving motherhood with four kids under six feels like trying to hold the whole world together with tired hands. I wake up before the sun, already exhausted, knowing a full shift at work and hours of college assignments are waiting for me — all while wiping tears, packing snacks, calming tantrums, and kissing little foreheads. There are moments when the noise feels too loud, the responsibilities too heavy, and the expectations too high. But then I look at my children — their tiny hands reaching for me, their little voices calling “Mama,” their trust in me without question — and I feel a strength inside myself that I didn’t know existed. It’s quiet, it’s steady, and it’s fueled by love and faith. I whisper “Bismillah” more times than I can count. I pray for patience on the hard days and whisper gratitude on the gentle ones. I remind myself that even when I feel like I’m breaking, I am still showing up. I am still trying. And that is its own form of strength — the strength of a mother who refuses to give up, even when her heart is tired.