
I think about all the things I didn't get to say, all that we didn't get a chance to do, and what I would have done differently.

I know this is a "hard season" of life. But I also know—because every well-meaning person over 40 tells me constantly—that these days go by so fast and to cherish them.

"Teach your girls to build high and kick it down," she says on The Motherly Podcast, Sponsored by Prudential.

Now that I'm a tired mama with a baby on her hip and a toddler by her side I'm learning you can never say no too many times. No to extra stressors, no to unrealistic expectations, no to too many commitments on the family calendar.

Moms are entitled to feel exhausted or overwhelmed or defeated, and they're allowed to express those feelings. We should never shame them for doing so.

"I wasn't ready," she told USA Today. "I don't think anyone is ever ready. I definitely knew I wanted kids, but the decision, it was not something that I had, like, planned."

When I looked at it a third time, I realized this was a beautiful photo of us. Honest, intimate and real, this photo perfectly captured all the feelings in the room that night, and the reality of motherhood, which is as complex as this photo.

Why does it have to be so incredibly complicated?

I watch as my daughter, this former resident of my belly and constant companion, runs away from me at full speed. Her focus is on claiming her independence, a milestone every parent wants their child to reach one day. But does it have to be today?

Sometimes I think time is racing against me.

In between panic and tears, somewhere inside of me, the mom in me appeared.

When was the last time I had been so terrified of doing something I really wanted to do that I sobbed uncontrollably in public, and then did the thing anyway?

We weren't trying. We weren't preventing it either. And yet when I peed on a pregnancy test and two bright pink lines showed up, I stared at it in disbelief.

It doesn't have to be this way, mama.

You're not a bad mom for thinking, I miss just being me. And you'd be surprised how many of us have thought that exact same thing.

I hope that my weakness teaches you something. I hope that when you come upon your own brokenness, tiredness, fear and confusion, that you will be okay with it. I pray that your imperfections won't scare you as they have me. I pray that you won't run from them, but that you'll wrestle with them and you will keep showing up, saying sorry, and trying again.

On those days when you doubt yourself—because they will surely come—remember this: You were born for this job. They have chosen you and there is nobody else in this world they would rather have by their side for their journey to becoming them.

Being fully immersed in the deep, sometimes treacherous waters of raising tiny humans is wondrous, yes—and occasionally overwhelming.