Erica

How do you define “mothering” in your own life—and has that definition changed over time?
Mothering to me is in the care and commitment of another person. Mothering is not limited to children that I have birthed. Mothering is experienced as guidance and support with other mothers and their offspring. In short, mothering has broadened over time and experience. Mothering is the deepest form of love I currently experience.

What has mothering revealed to you about who you are, beyond the roles you play?
Mothering has revealed to me how impactful community is. I mother better together. When other mothers are a part of my mothering experience, when our children are around one another, when we watch one another's children, we create safe spaces to discuss our lives now. Time is redefined as “before I was a mother” and “after I have become a mother.”

What parts of your journey feel unseen, misunderstood, or unspoken—and deserve to be named out loud?
I think about how many nuances there are in motherhood. The calls to organizations to assess if your child will enjoy something, filling out applications, adjusting my schedule to be available and accessible, focusing on each child’s character and adjusting how I interact with them—serving each child the same lesson in a way they can digest. I think of these, and many more, and I know my children will never think about all it took for them to be at the appointment, be on the team, or be at the school. So much of my life is spent organizing behind the scenes and all of that work will never be acknowledged.

How has your experience of mothering been shaped by your lineage, your culture, or the community around you?
My community, my chosen family, is the reason I can mother. I have built a solid tribe of women and men who see me mother and then proceed to respect, encourage, and participate in it by loving over me and actively supporting my children in my absence.

What was your postpartum experience like—emotionally, physically, and spiritually? What kind of support (or lack of it) did you receive during that time?

Each postpartum experience has been unique. Each one becomes somewhat of a blur. It is the sweetest time when I am alone with the infant during the day. That I know is one of the best parts of being a mother to me. There is such a short window in that after-birth haze of unknown. Who is this new person and who am I? The two questions meet in love and thrive over time.

If you could design the ideal postpartum care system, what would it look and feel like?
I encourage any expectant mother of multiples to have a nesting party. Here, loved ones meet to cook and freeze meals for you and the family for the postpartum period. I did it with my last child for the first time and it was the greatest choice I have ever made. People that love me poured that love into wholesome meals that I was able to feed my healing body. It was incredibly supportive to have nourishing dinners ready for my entire family without cooking.

Can you share a moment of deep joy in your mothering journey—one that lives in your body?
Seeing my children interact with their siblings brings me the most immense joy. To hear them ask one another questions, to see individuals birthed and raised by me get to know each other is the most rewarding sight I have ever seen. I feel like I’ve won when I see them make one another smile; when they stick up for each other during fights with one another I see how they are making each other stronger. They will one day be alone in this life, without me, without their father, and I know that because they have one another, because I have seen them grow respectively alongside each other, they will be well.

What grief, loss, or transformation has shaped the way you show up as a mother?
I lost identical twin boys at 18 weeks. I wanted them. I was scared but I loved them. They were far along to be lost in the way they were, and the way my body had to suffer while they never made it earthside devastated my ability to be present. As I grieved their loss I realized I was missing current moments with the strong, healthy children I had in my face. My other children do not know of their brothers; I do not know if I will ever tell them. I still cry for those boys. I pray that they know how much I loved them. I will never be the same. I have become even more protective of how much I expose my children now, as if they too are my secret I do not want to share.

How do you access healing—emotionally, spiritually, or ancestrally?
I know God. With every gift that is a new day, I connect emotionally, spiritually, and ancestrally through nature to better my understanding of the God in me.

Are there any rituals, practices, or traditions that keep you grounded?
Gratitude is a staple practice in my household. At times, in dark times especially, gratitude is forced. You must force yourself to identify what you are grateful for. It is necessary and it is true.

What does community care mean to you—and how do you invite others into your mothering journey to help bridge gaps of support, understanding, or visibility?
Community care is in like-minded mothers who are different from me. It is a privilege to build a community for my children of people who have strengths and peculiarities that differ from mine. This is what builds strong societies. My children come from me but they each are their own individual, and supporting their relationships with adults that love them and want nothing from them is a success I do not take lightly. We keep these strong relationships by being vulnerable with one another, being judgment-free, and being present. We figure it out and we show up, over and over again.

To mother within systems that weren’t made for you is an act of resistance. How do you navigate, push against, or reimagine those systems in your everyday world?
I take my children to work. It is not convenient, it is not easy, it is often not enjoyable, and yet, it is a privilege. I refuse to birth and be required to be away. Physiologically I know being close to my children when they are small is the best emotional, mental, and hormonal regulator for us both.

What do you want the world to understand about mothers like you?
Motherhood takes up the majority of my life currently, and yet it is only a part of the woman I am.

What do you hope your child—or future generations—inherit from your story?
You get this one life that you can remember. This life is for you. We are better together.