To the mother who breastfed her baby until she no longer needed it: I know what it is like to feel that your little one is receiving everything you need from you. Your body is something amazing. I also know the feeling of absolute exhaustion when you feel that everything is your responsibility, that your nipples are cracked and you have no rest. We are not rivals.
To the mother who feeds her baby with formula: I know the love that overwhelms you when you see your husband feeding your baby, and your mother feeding her grandchild like she did with you years ago. I also know that you experience guilt and pressure for the judgments of those who observe from the outside. I know you've tried to explain your reasons. We are not rivals.
To the mother who prepares each porridge at home: I know your peace of mind knowing what exactly your baby eats. I also know how disenchanted your little one spits out all your work. We are not rivals.
To the mom who has her pantry stocked with baby food from the supermarket: I know that your time is valuable and that your expenses seem to have doubled, and that those porridges do not smell delicious. We are not rivals.
To the mother who rests at the same time as her baby does: I know the privilege you feel when you see him sleep and embrace his soft body. I also know how much you've wanted a bed size what in so that your little one gives you space. We are not rivals.
To the mom who took her baby to the nursery after 12 weeks: I know you're worried about not being able to keep an eye on your little one. I also know that you feel anguish every time you stick your head out when you pick it up again, to know it's okay. We are not rivals.
To the mother who goes for her baby every time she cries: I know that she will not be small for a long time, and those affection and attentions are very valuable. I also know the desperation caused by a baby that does not sleep when you need so much rest. We are not rivals.
To the mother who teaches her son to calm down for himself: I know how much you want to go for him when he cries, and that you will doubt any technique you are following. I also know that your baby will wake up and smile at you in the morning and will not love you less for that. We are not rivals.
To the mother who returned to work: I know the joy of participating in conversations of adults and return to your routine. I also know that you feel guilt and sadness when you kiss your little one when you say goodbye. We are not rivals.
To the mother who stays at home: I know the joy that exists in a day full of simple pleasures and laughter. I also know of the incessant demands that you must fulfill, and the need to justify your place in society. We are not rivals.
There is no wrong path. There is only yours. Sometimes it is a choice; others, a circumstance. We are all mothers in different ways. But we all agree to do our best. We may want to die for some decisions we make. And feeling guilty is something that comes along with motherhood.
Sometimes we would like to leave the house with a smaller diaper bag. But we all love our children with a passion that we did not know we were capable of experiencing, and we will cry on their first day of school.
WE ARE NOT RIVAL. WE ARE MOTHERS.