The Military Mom Collective is a collaborative community for the military family worldwide. We exist to provide resources, encouragement, and community to all branches, ranks, and families. We believe this to be our mission. Therefore, we are growing our community to provide a space for our Moms of Service Members.

We know firsthand how beneficial community can be. We want to show our Moms of Service Members that they have a safe place to land here too. We are lucky to have these moms on our team that provide encouragement and a listening ear. You are not alone and we are here for you!

If you are interested in being a part of this community, join us HERE on Facebook.

“Letting go is most likely the hardest part of having a child join the military. No one prepares you for the heartbreak. No one guides you through the stages of grief. No one is there to pack up their bedroom and wipe your tears. Motherhood and the military are oil and vinegar. Except – as a mother, I had to find a way to get oil and vinegar to mix. Watching him walk away on his ship date literally tore my heart from my chest. I found myself drowning in emotions I was not prepared for nor equipped to navigate through. As he was about to step into the shuttle to head to the airport alongside other Air Force newbies, I ran to him again and we hugged as if it would be the last. Why do our hearts betray us in these moments? I needed to be strong, no tears, wave with pride as he drove off. Instead, the shuttle drove off and I fell to my knees. Grief became a part of me that day. He drove away and I fell apart. My husband was unable to console me. He pictured a young man departing for the rest of his life. I saw the baby I delivered 19 years ago that was placed on my chest and stole my heart. Little did I know, he was the only baby I’d be blessed to deliver. And now, that baby was boarding a plane for Lackland Air Force Base and on to the rest of his amazing life. Grief may have joined this walk with me, but God gave me strength to keep on keeping on. I allowed myself to hug his hoodie, smelling the smells he left behind, sobbing into it and hanging onto it as if it were a lifeline. Then, I wiped the tears, gathered his laundry and bedsheets, and washed the sorrow away. Grief would not be allowed to stay. I would find a way to rise above it and learn to enjoy this blessed journey.”

Monique Smith

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