They suffered through morning sickness and uncontrollable weight gain. They gave up their evening cocktails and their jeans with a real zipper. Prenatal vitamins became their drug of choice. They followed their hearts when strange cravings presented themselves as a “good idea,” and then re-presented themselves as a “bad idea” 30 minutes later. Hormones? Yeah, they dealt with those, too. Frequent mood swings and meltdowns. They experienced Katy Perry’s “Hot and Cold” song in real-time, hot flashes and cold spells. Ankles? No. They redefined the anatomy of the human body with their “cankles” closely resembling swollen tree stumps.

They read every baby book cover-to-cover, and Googled questions they probably shouldn’t have. They “baby-proofed” every inch of the house, and disinfected more than your average surgery center. They considered every option; bottle or breastfeeding, homemade baby food, natural birth, schedules, baby monitors and cribs.

They dragged your dad to birthing classes and pregnant yoga and forced him to trade in his Mercedes for a minivan. They lost any dignity they ever had with far too many pairs of eyes gazing upon them in all of their glory, strapped to stirrups in bright lights. I will not go into detail, but let’s just take a moment of silence for the fact that something equivalent to that of a watermelon came out of something that is, well, not.

They learned to carry you, bags, groceries and car seats better than most Sherpas. They became capable of changing diapers in places that defy nature, and can pack for an outing faster than a thief trying to make a get away. They took you on trips, holding you on the airplane while you screamed, pulled their hair and kicked the chair in front of you. They waited on you hand and foot while you were sick, even though they had the plague themselves. They signed you up and hand-delivered you to every activity possible, all while providing snacks and being the “den mother” for 20 other children. If a poor word was said about you, they turn into the female version of Jason Bourne and "take care" of the problem.

They took you to Pier One, Ikea and Target and "pimped out" your dorm room. They did every fragment of laundry you had when you came home, while you sat at the table eating a warm, home-cooked meal.

They will take you to pick out your wedding dress or tuxedo, and make sure not even a flower is out of place on the big day. They will hold your children with the same love they first held you with, all while spoiling them more rotten than an old peach.

They’re your mom, mother, momma, mommy, madré.

Just take a moment to realize how incredible these human beings are. Thank you to the moms who have been through hell and back. To the moms that are still trying, to the new moms, the old moms, the dads that are more like moms, the adopted moms and any mom in between. We would not be on this earth without you, literally. So cheers to you, cheers to all of the memories you have created with us, good and bad. Cheers to all of the sticky messes and dirty plates you have cleaned. Cheers to being the bright face in the morning and the sleepy, loving face at night. We love you, moms. The love you have given is without measure.

We salute you.