
A confession about a ruined morning!
One of those mornings where everything is—or turns into—a nightmare. Staying asleep would be, at this very moment, a very good option.
Real-life stories about becoming a mother, finding your footing, and everything that changes along the way.
98 stories in this section.

One of those mornings where everything is—or turns into—a nightmare. Staying asleep would be, at this very moment, a very good option.

Dear rainbow moms, I am writing this letter on behalf of all the nurses in the maternity wards, on behalf of all the obstetricians, and on behalf of everyo

It’s hard for me to write these words, because for a while now, I’ve been seeing myself in you, and that scares me.

One day, I knew you were there inside me, and those first few months were filled with happiness and indescribable moments.

It’s time we looked each other straight in the eye. For once, I’m asking you to be quiet and listen to me.

I’d like to share a part of my childhood with you. I grew up with two “moms” and two “dads,” if you can call them that.

Honestly, I’m not as strong as I let on. It’s often easier to say, “Yeah, I’m fine—how about you?” than to say, “Ugh!

In life, it’s easy to belittle, put someone down, or hurt someone with just a few words. Even if we don’t mean to, we’re fragile.

Little mystery baby, growing gently in your mom’s belly, let me introduce myself: I’m your godmother.

I’ll just come right out and say it… sometimes I wish I had a penis sticking out between my legs!

These days, my heart goes out to all parents who have a sick child. Honestly, dealing with 3,000 appointments and return calls must be pretty tough—thank y

I want to talk to you first (because the others who’ve already let go will just laugh it off).

Some days, I have the best job in the world. I’m lucky enough to meet people every day and share with them the most extraordinary moment of their lives.

Dear Doudou, You came into his life on Day 1. You were a gift from his godmother and godfather, who had the wonderful tradition of giving the first blanket

And if you didn’t exist, tell me why I’d exist… We all recognize these words from Dassin’s song, which are usually directed at a loved one.

On October 28, 2019, the day science finally explained your new reality: cancer in one of your lungs.

When I was pregnant with my son, like all expectant moms, I took the infamous super-sweet orange juice test to determine if I had gestational diabetes.

A friend asked me this: “Are you able to step away from your role as a mom?” I started to question my role as a mother… what exactly is a mother’s role?

Hey girl, brace yourself, because what I'm about to tell you is far from cute .

As far back as I can remember, I really don’t have any good memories of Halloween.

I’m a mom, a lover, and a woman who wants to be strong. But I’m allowed a day of weakness every now and then.

I realized this during my last girls’ night out. And when I became a contributor for Maman Caféine—when something just took hold of me and I couldn’t stop

There are days when our kids drive us crazy—they drain all our energy and almost (and I mean almost!) make us want to trade them in, sell them on Kijiji, o

The last time I had friends over, I ended the evening with a nice puddle of “too much milk” on my shirt.

Let’s face it, “bad moms” are all the rage these days. Honestly, I think it’s totally fine to talk about taboos and be honest about the fact that being a m

Major depression and anxiety disorder. I need to rest.... HA HA HA! I have two kids, a husband, a dog, and a house to take care of!

The first few weeks with a newborn are always like a honeymoon. You’re floating on a beautiful little cloud.

My little sweetheart, you’re growing up at breakneck speed! At just two years old, you amaze me in so many ways.

Super Bowl, blah blah blah. Lady Gaga was wow, blah blah blah. What a gorgeous voice and what a talented woman, blah blah blah.

My handsome big boy, as I write this, there are only two weeks left until your fifth birthday. One month minus one day after my own son turned five.

You are me, several years ago, and there are things I want you to know. You’ll miss out on many things because of shyness and fear.

Saying goodbye to someone we love is a difficult ordeal. This morning at 10:15 a.m., I had to let my grandmother go—that strong, courageous woman.

Today, I’m claiming my right to talk down to you, mom! To rattle your cage and squeeze that heart of yours right where it belongs.

"Little Mom" is the level just below "Little Lady." Listen up, girl—you don’t need to have a kid to be a "Little Mom." Oh, no way!

5 letters. Many different inflections and a million emotions. Being a mom is the role of my life and, ironically, the only one I was never prepared for.

Forgetting me, all the time… Ah, the good old days… or “when I was young,” as our grandparents would say. Those were the days when I always came first.

Everywhere you look, you see photos of expectant mothers who are happy with their round bellies. They look radiant and so pretty.

My daughter, Growing up in 2020 is nothing like I expected. Even without a pandemic, I think motherhood in general has really taken over my life, two years

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always imagined myself in a world filled with lots of little kids.

Am I right to be so worried when I send my child to daycare? And if your child could talk, what do you think they would say to you? Hi! I’m Milan!

I don’t always understand the way people look at me, and I don’t know why they treat me differently from my friends.

It took me 28 years to realize it, and a little longer still to admit it. I had to become a mom myself. I admit it today: Mom, you were right.

"Mom, when you decided to have a child, you may not have immediately thought about the impact it would have on you.

In life, I’m a pretty open-minded person. Like everyone else, I have my limits and sometimes fixed ideas about certain topics. Well, yeah!

As women, our relationships with our bodies are often marked by judgment. Ideals—some more realistic than others—are displayed everywhere.

My little darling, I’d like to say these few words to you… I’d like to tell you that I love you more than you can even imagine.

In just a few minutes, you’ll make your debut into this world. Your parents have done me the immense honor of naming me your godmother and letting me close

My dear Mom, dry your tears. My dear Mom, don’t be sad—I’m not sad anymore. I was lucky enough to see so many things.

We met in high school and clicked right away. We were inseparable—it was like we’d known each other forever; we were like sisters.

This text conveys the voice of my dear friend of 25 years, who has been a single mom for over a year and a half.

Today, I know that to you I seem perfect, without flaw. Our bond is unbreakable; we live for one another day after day.

After giving birth for the first time, I noticed that my memory was failing me at times.

I sometimes see posts or articles about stepmothers. More often than not, these pieces are filled with hatred, toxic relationships, and misunderstandings o

Because, you know, people love you, but from a distance, in photos, or just once in a while.

Definition of the word “Namaste”: I salute the divine within you. Taking the time to celebrate humanity in all its splendor, to take care of oneself, and t

At my shower , my mom told me to stop eating so I wouldn’t gain too much weight.

There are many changes in life: childhood, high school, puberty, adulthood, and so on.

Coffee and motherhood—we get the connection, especially on the Maman Caféine page.

When my partner and I decided we wanted to have a child, it didn’t take long for me to get pregnant.

One day, my darlings, you may be leaning over me as I grow old, all wrinkled and with much less vitality.

This happened to me for the first time in five years of motherhood. I was sick as a dog, alone with the kids.

My big boys, you were all born in quick succession. There’s not even a year between the two oldest, and two years between the third.

When I became a mom, hugs, kisses, and “I love yous” filled my love tank.

Aaaaaaah, motherhood: an endless source of debates of all kinds. Let’s face it, social media has made things worse.

Are you afraid of getting older? I am—it’s automatic, and yet it’s normal. It’s as if I’ve let time get ahead of me, while I’ve remained frozen in place.

Is it because I’m a Libra, because I’m a mom, or simply because it’s part of who I am—my personality and my way of being?

I remember the day I became a mom; I swore to myself that my life would only get better and that I would finally feel truly alive!

When you saw those two little lines appear on your test, you thanked heaven for sending you a little treasure to cherish.

If you run into me with my son at the store, first of all, you should know that this is a huge accomplishment for him, so tell him, “Wow, Antoine!

Books, movies, ideologies—that’s what we find on the motherhood shelf. Beautiful images, a portrayal that isn’t reality.

It’s 3 a.m. and I’m watching you sleep. You’ve drifted off in the crook of my arms, your tummy full.

I saw him come into the world as a little boy with a cry softer than expected, his mother surrounded by women who love her, but without his father.

My big boy, at just 4 years old, you’re trying as best you can to understand what’s going on out there.

Being a mom is like a roller coaster: there are wonderful highs filled with love and smiles, and there are lows—those dips that bring anger and tears.

We’ve all said—or at least heard—one of these phrases before. Phrases that serve either to ease our guilt or to try to hide the obvious: we’re not perfect

First of all, I’d like to tip my hat to all stay-at-home moms. You’re clearly saints.

I don’t think I’m the only one who’s often dreamed of being able to read minds.

I’m going to share my experience because I don’t want to presume to know or understand what every mom of a child who’s different feels, but I sincerely bel

Dear Sylvie, I’m writing these few lines so you can get to know your son’s wife—the woman who makes him happy. Our story is so wonderful and intense.

I can’t remember the day I met you, because I was so little when you came into our lives.

You’re raising your child almost entirely on your own, and you find it really tough at times.

A cloud has settled over your head and, insidiously, has dimmed some of the light.

My mother’s heart aches. I know you’ve inherited my explosive temper. Unfortunately, it’s not a choice. A temper like that is neither a flaw nor a virtue.

Motherhood was an experience I embraced with love, excitement, and wonder. I absolutely loved it.

One day, when I was living in France, my boss asked me what I thought about allowing a same-sex couple to adopt. I felt a little nervous for a moment.

When I look at mom groups—the comments they post, the beautiful words they share with each other—there’s one insult that seems to be universally agreed upo

We need to talk! Sit down, listen to me, and don't say a word. Your mom...

I'm a woman who could be described as hypersensitive. Don't believe me?

As of today, I’ve been a mom for four and a half years. Since then, I’ve made incredible discoveries and rediscovered what really matters.

Listen up, caffeine-fueled community—I’m angry. I don’t consider myself an angry person in general—far from it.

It doesn’t matter if you’ve been gone for as little as the time it takes to have a meal at a restaurant with a friend or a quick trip to the grocery store

Several weeks ago now, our lives were turned upside down—without warning, without a chance to prepare.

This week, we witnessed the emergence of a new phenomenon in the G family. Life is changing, and the arrival of #2 has made my son a little more clingy.

My beautiful, big boy! At three and a half years old, I watch you discover the world through your child’s eyes.

I wrote a piece recently that was meant to be humorous. It was about those tiny, insignificant little annoyances that I exaggerated and turned into caricat

My baby. My little princess. My little rascal. I’ve been breastfeeding you since you were born—14 months now. And I’m proud of it.

Last Sunday was your special day! Your mother’s, your grandmother’s—but yours, too! But it wasn’t celebrated the way you deserved.

So who were you, exactly, before you became a mom? Admit it—you got caught up in it all and you’ve almost forgotten.