Surrender is the gift that mothering gives us.

Giving into a powerful emotion or influence is defined as surrendering. There's another word that fits this description, one that encompasses this release. Motherhood. 

We come into mothering in a multitude of ways; adoption, step-parenting, planned and unplanned, in vitro, inner child healing, fur babes, mentoring, and birthing. Whatever the paradigm, we all relinquish ourselves to the emotion and influence mothering requires; we all surrender.

We accept what our bodies will or won't do, from the unexpected twists and turns of relationships to our wounds, harvesting fertility, healing our childhood traumas, healthcare, yielding our bodies in the creation and delivery of human life, or the scrutiny of an extrinsic agency's determination of our rights to parent.

And it's personal.

No two mothers capitulate in the same exact way to the ubiquitous surrender of mothering. We all get there; we all become overloaded, overcome, overwhelmed, emboldened, emancipated, and enriched by all that mothering delivers. 

Mothering will hit a reef, allowing the ship to take on water, heralding the end of all security and sanity in one moment. Then, in an instant, move the sail to harvest tradewinds of hope, righting the vessel and saving the day, moment, or minute.

Able to renew at the speed of sound, the mothering heart becomes a kaleidoscopic work of art detailing the trajectory of the sweetest surrender. It is home and haven to a vibrant, fearless, organic, tender, fragmented, glorious love.

In saying yes to this love, we may release expectations, hold space for expansion, embrace the inherent nature of change, and celebrate their flight.

This love never ceases, even when they leave. It remains within, illuminating memories and inspiring the future.

This love is worthy of all surrender, and I'm better for it.