This week, one of our newer moms sent me a message that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. Over the weekend, a few of us noticed she had gone quiet. She wasn’t as active in the chats and she wasn’t showing up at some of our mom events the way she normally had been. There wasn’t any reason for concern exactly, but there was enough of an absence that several of us noticed she wasn’t there.

Her Village Sister (a mentor new members within our Serene Moms private subscription membership are immediately paired with) reached out to check in on her. I did too. A few other moms sent messages as well, simply reminding her that we were here if she needed anything and that we were thinking about her. There was no expectation attached to it and no pressure to respond. Just a few moms noticing another mom seemed to disappear for a little while and wanting to make sure she was okay.

Today she wrote back and shared what had been happening behind the scenes. She had been sick all weekend. At the same time, she was trying to navigate her daughter’s birthday while carrying the reality of being a single working mom.

As I read her message, I found myself imagining what that weekend must have looked like for her. Being sick as a parent is hard enough. Being sick as a single parent is something else entirely.

There is no calling in sick from motherhood.

There is no one to hand things off to while you recover. Birthdays don’t move because mom has a fever or feels exhausted. There are still presents to wrap, memories to create, meals to make, emotions to hold, and a child who deserves to feel celebrated on her special day even if mom is running on empty. The work of caring for everyone else continues whether your body is ready for it or not.

The part of her message that stayed with me the most was when she shared that no one from work had checked in on her. The place that receives her time, her energy, her effort, and her labor every week had not reached out to ask if she was okay. But the moms in this Serene Moms private membership community had.

Women she had only known for a relatively short amount of time noticed she was missing. They noticed the silence. They noticed that she wasn’t showing up the way she normally did, and they cared enough to reach out.

She shared how much those messages meant to her during that difficult weekend and how much they helped as she recovered and slowly found her footing again this week. It struck me that maybe this is what so many of us are actually searching for when we say we want a village. Not people to solve our problems or take away our hard moments, but people who notice when we’re carrying them. People who realize when we’re missing. People who care enough to ask, “Are you okay?”

Motherhood can feel incredibly lonely sometimes, especially for single moms and working moms who spend so much of their lives taking care of everyone else while quietly carrying their own struggles alone. There is something profoundly healing about being seen in those moments.

This week felt like a reminder that villages still exist. Sometimes they are built slowly, one conversation, one check-in, and one act of care at a time.