My Mother’s Freedom

Issue 01 | September 2025

Natalie Lewis &

Renee Eiler, Lead Writer

Photograph of Kristine Reeves by Kaley From Kansas

Breathing deep, breathing long

My mama sings her favorite song

Weeping first and weeping last

‘Till all the shadows cast their past

Falling far but falling free

Always there for me

Keeping up and keeping track

Making more but make it last

She thought she lost

But mama, you won

You’ve won the chance to make someone

Shaking hands and shaking heart

You know, deep down, the way to start

Taking chances, taking steps

Hold me as you mold and mesh

Breaking bonds and breaking holds

Braking fast and braking slow

Mommy, stay. Mommy, play.

Mommy make and mommy bake

Mommy work; yes, mommy knew

A thousand prayers you’ve prayed to view

They say you’ve lost and I see you fall

But really, mama, you do it all.

You breathe, you weep, you fall, you keep

You make, you shake, you take, you break

You do, you stay, you move, you play

You hold, you pray, you form my day

“You can’t create,” they whisper fast

“It’s far too late for that.”

But mama, that isn’t what I see.

I see a world…

The world you make for me.

Poem by Renee Eiler

Ten years ago my shaking hands held a positive pregnancy test. As my expanding belly continued to confirm those double lines, it also began to tell a story to the watching world. A story of the birth of both a baby and her mother. And the watching world had a story to tell right back. Whether it was overt messaging on a screen or the elbow nudge of a stranger, the subtle sentiment was sent: “get ready.” Get ready for the loss of personal pursuit. Get ready to say goodbye to your time, your hobbies, your sleep, and your sanity. Really, to your entire self.

There is, to be sure, truth to all of this. Yet I am increasingly convinced that the door of motherhood should be seen for not only what it closes behind on but also what it opens up into. Yes, sometimes it is a battle to believe it. Sometimes we have to choose to rehearse the gains instead of recounting the losses.We have to work to shift the larger narrative so that our own personal perspective can shift, too: We are not prisoners locked inside. Our hands are open and our wrists are not bound. We can find motherhood as a catalyst to freedom instead of the killer of it.

Here, we are free to create outward beauty. It is the happy sunflowers placed as a centerpiece, the sliced veggies on a charcuterie board, and the patient pruning of house plants. It is the adding of a book to the shelf, the lighting of a candle on the table, and the glistening of the sun after you pull the shades. As we are painting their nails, packing their lunches, and rearranging their rooms, we are creating. Like an artist generously and delicately dabbing color onto a blank canvas. Adding beauty and wonder and warmth. This creation is not a commodity to be consumed but a delicacy to be deeply felt. It is a powerful presence that can not be monetarily measured. There is something uniquely freeing about partaking in a work thats benefit is simply our own delight and the delight of the ones we love.

Here, we are free to cultivate inward strength. A kind of strength that is forged from the outside and formed on the inside. Motherhood will require more than we knew we could give and push us further than we knew we could go. It exposes our limits and then it expands them. It is, in a sense, an ongoing retelling and reliving of our birth stories. Pushing us past the physical pain and exhaustion into the beauty of a life that has emerged on the other side. A mom is handed the daily invitation to manage multiple tasks, support emotional needs, and slow down to see the sacred moments. As she does this, as we do this, we are tapping into a reservoir of strength. Strength like a deep well being filled up with the waters of adaptability, resilience, and patience. As these strengths are being poured in we are able to, in turn, pour them back out.

Here, we are free to craft another’s character. It is a freedom that goes further than self. It can cultivate a kind of inward strength that is utilized, not weaponized, to directly develop and slowly shape the souls of the little human beings entrusted to us. We can choose which principles to pass on and which values to instill. We are free to foster a body, brain, and entire being outside of ourselves. We can nurture emotions, redirect behaviors, and invest in hearts. What a sobering and empowering privilege. A privilege that lends itself towards a willing sacrifice.

Here, we are free to open ourselves to the truest kind of self discovery. Self discovery wrapped up in self denial. A liberating love that lays down one’s life. It is an unlosable gain. So let’s “get ready.” Get ready for the freedom to create outward beauty, cultivate inward strength, and craft another’s character. Get ready to find a new kind of liberty and life in the laying down of our own. Motherhood- what a beautiful place to be set free into.

Article by Natalie Lewis