SacraMom.com

If your family is like mine, you’re currently drowning in the tidal wave that is Maycember. We all knew it was coming, but it still hit like a natural disaster—one from which you’re not sure you’ll ever fully recover. It’s the month of all the things: First Communions, graduations, field trips, appreciation days, practices, rehearsals, picture days, games – the list goes on.
And of course, Mother’s Day falls right in the middle of it all.

Lately, my feeds have been full of petitions to move Mother’s Day to a more peaceful time of year. Moms everywhere are feeling the injustice of our special day landing in the busiest month—like an afterthought, squeezed in when we’re already stretched thin. I understand the frustration, it can feel like a bit of a gut punch.

But I’d like to try to reframe the scenario.

Perhaps Mother’s Day sits in May not by accident, but by design. Maybe it sits where motherhood itself lives—in the middle of everything.

The vocational life of a mother is almost never polished or pristine. It is full and messy, supportive and flexible. Motherhood lives in the margins, not the spotlight—creating space so everything else can exist without falling apart. And the margins aren’t empty; they’re essential, they’re structural.

Mothers are co-creators—participating in the daily shaping of life itself. All the things we celebrate in May—the milestones, the achievements, the growth—are made possible through the quiet support of mothers.

The Church, in her wisdom, also celebrates the Blessed Mother in the month of May. May has long been recognized as a month of renewal and regrowth, and May Crownings have been part of liturgical tradition since the Middle Ages. Mary is honored as the New Eve—the “yes” that brought forth the salvation of the world. She was the epitome of fruitfulness, not through her own productivity, but through her obedience and humility: “Let it be done to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38).

Mary’s motherhood was anything but calm and controlled. It was full of uncertainty and surrender—and yet she remained faithful.

So maybe, as Christian mothers, what the Church is inviting us into in the month of May is not productivity, but presence. In a culture that measures worth by accomplishment, perhaps Mother’s Day is meant to remind us to lean into presence, obedience, and service—the foundations of this vocation.

Maybe May doesn’t need to look fancy or polished, but instead becomes an invitation into joyful receptivity: a willingness to receive the abundant, sometimes overwhelming, gift of life with our children.

I understand why Mother’s Day in May can feel like a slap in the face, but I’m starting to think it belongs right where it is.

It doesn’t interrupt May’s chaos—it reveals its meaning, naming and honoring the women who, in their quiet co-creation, make so much of life possible.

Maybe that is the invitation for us as mothers in this season of fullness: not to escape the chaos, but to meet it with the same quiet “yes” that Mary gave over 2000 years ago. To remain present in what is messy and demanding, trusting that even here—in the middle of it all—something meaningful is still being formed.