By, Joslynn Skelton
As mothers, we give and give. And then one day, we realize the light has come on—our tank is empty. Many times, we’re running on fumes, coasting in neutral down life’s hill, hanging onto a prayer and the wind, just hoping to make it to the next “gas station” where we can refill ourselves. But too often, even when we stop, it’s just enough for 30–40 more miles, enough to get us through another couple of days before we find ourselves running on empty again.
So how do we, as mothers, break the cycle of never really taking the time to fill our own tanks? That was the question posed in one of my small groups recently, and it made me pause. Because the truth is, too often, we put everyone else’s oxygen mask on first, forgetting that if we can’t breathe, we can’t help anyone else.
I learned this the hard way. When my daughter Charlie was born missing the left side of her heart, she needed three open-heart surgeries and 13 procedures before she turned three. For three years, I didn’t stop. I worked full-time, lived at the hospital weeks at a time, drove back and forth in the dead of night for meetings I couldn’t miss, and tried to juggle life at home for my other kids and husband. When we finally reached a place where we could breathe, I was a shell of the person I had once been. My body and mind crashed after living in fight-or-flight mode for so long.
The years that followed were a battle of a different kind—fighting to reclaim my mental and physical health. I experienced bipolar depression, PTSD, anxiety, and sleep deprivation, all of which were treated with a combination of medications. The weight of it all—physically and emotionally—was heavy. It took almost three years to find balance again, to begin coming off medication, to heal, and to begin feeling like the mom I was meant to be.
Today, Charlie is 11 and thriving. And I’ve learned that my health—mental, emotional, physical, and social—is not optional. It’s essential. Because if I’m not well, my family feels it too.
Even for those without medically fragile children, the daily grind can leave us depleted. Homework assignments, soccer games, healthy dinners, endless laundry—sometimes it feels like there’s not a single moment left for ourselves. But here’s what I’ve started doing: creating small “refill stations” throughout my day. Ten minutes here, fifteen minutes there. A quiet coffee before the house wakes. Sitting in the car for a few minutes just listening to the radio. And my favorite? Mandatory 30-minute reading time before bed for the kids—so I can sneak away for a 20-minute bath alone.
They may not seem like much, but they’re enough to keep me from being stranded 50 miles from the nearest “gas station.” And sometimes, the best refill station is a phone call to a girlfriend. Chances are, she’s running on fumes too. There’s comfort in sharing the chaos, swapping funny memes, and laughing about the school project your child tells you about during bedtime routine that—of course—is due tomorrow. Through laughter and friendship, we refill each other.
So, moms—don’t wait until the tank is empty. Find your refill stations. Breathe. Laugh. Refuel. Because you deserve it, and your family needs the healthiest version of you. – Joslynn Jarrett-Skelton MOY 2025
