Terms of Service

Terms of Service

Welcome to MAMA! By accessing or using our community platform, you agree to the following terms:

1. Eligibility

You must be at least 18 years old, a mother/guardian (includes expecting and otherwise) and a member in good standing to join MAMA.

2. Account Responsibility

You are responsible for maintaining the confidentiality of your account information, including username and password, and for all activity under your account.

3. Community Conduct

MAMA is a supportive, professional space. Treat members with respect. Harassment, discrimination, or inappropriate content will not be tolerated. Violation may result in removal from the community.

4. Content Sharing

You retain ownership of your content, but by posting, you grant MAMA permission to display and share it within the community.

5. Privacy

We respect your privacy. Personal data will be handled according to our Privacy Policy.

6. Membership Fees

Membership is $8/month or $80/year. Rolling admission applies. Fees will not be charged until your account is active.

7. Disclaimer

MAMA provides resources and networking opportunities. Participation does not guarantee employment, mentorship, or professional outcomes.

8. Changes to Terms

We may update these Terms of Service. Continued use of MAMA constitutes acceptance of any changes.

By joining MAMA, you agree to these terms and to help build a space where working mothers can thrive—without apology.

IMG_5393 - Emily Meekins
20250627_141831_283 - Emily Meekins
20250716_175644_894 - Emily Meekins

Emily Meekins

Emily • Fractional People/Talent Partner • Lancaster, PA • 1 Beautiful Boy
Still in my first year of motherhood—and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. My son Irving is the center of my world. Who knew I could love someone so deeply, or how much my world (and sense of self) would expand because of him?
 
It’s also really hard being a mom—and all of the other things I am: a partner, a business owner (x2, soon to be 3!), a friend, a daughter/sister/aunt, a homeowner, a community builder, the go-to shoulder to lean on for so many people in my life. I wouldn’t trade a single role, but whew—trying to be them all at once is demanding.
 
It feels like the pace of life has 10x’d. I’ve adjusted… but I’m also often out of breath (and occasionally in tears). And yet—this is the happiest, most fulfilled I’ve ever been. I’m also on the verge of tears writing this. (Thanks, postpartum hormones!) I think this might just be who I am now, lol.
🙂🤪🥲
I thought I was ready.
 
My son started daycare at 4 months; I returned to work a week later with a full plate of client work. Somehow, I completely missed the memo on daycare germs. Our house was rocked for three straight months—constantly sick, constantly trying to care for a sick baby while also being sick, while also holding up client commitments.
 
It all came to a head with an overnight hospital stay. Sitting next to his hospital crib—exhausted, terrified—and suddenly everything came into focus. What my home needed. The space I hadn’t made in my work. The community I was missing. I pulled out my phone and sent Caloua a chaotic brain dump—a seed of what would eventually become MAMA. Something I needed. Something I knew others needed too.
 
I genuinely believed nothing would change. That daycare would start, I’d go back to work, and life would resume as normal. But nothing about me—or my life—will ever return to “normal.” The biggest thing I’ve learned? My margin of error had to expand. Dramatically. Because there are things I can’t plan for that will keep showing up—and if I don’t build space for them, they’ll bulldoze me every time.
From 9 to 5, it feels like we’re all in hiding. Imagine having to tuck away this huge, all-consuming, life-altering part of who you are—for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. Sometimes there’s a bit of small talk at the top of a meeting—but it’s clear we’re expected to quickly tuck it away. Shift gears, get focused, and get back to being a productive professional. Like I didn’t just spend my morning covered in poop. Honestly? It’s weird. I didn’t realize how strange or disorienting it would feel until I became a mother.
I feel most seen—as a mother and a professional—when I’m talking to other working moms.
 
There’s an unspoken understanding that transcends anything I could try to explain: the balancing act, the relentless pace, the invisibility, the constant demands, the never-ending to-do list, the meltdowns (ours and theirs), the expectations, the guilt.
 
Those moments of being truly understood—whether it’s a passing comment, a voice memo, or the rare and sacred dinner date—they mean everything.
Support, right now, means having people I can call on who truly get it. People who understand me—and this phase of life I’m in—in a deep, almost spiritual kind of way.
Launching MAMA is a dream and I’m so proud to finally be sharing this with others.
live in the delusion that I’m just one month away from things normalizing. (If I keep telling myself this, it’ll eventually happen… right? 🤪)
MAMA! I’m also growing the recruitment side of workstrat (need help hiring? hi!! 👋🏻). And at home, we’re working on getting Irving to sleep in his crib through the night. Not cool yet, but it’s going to catch on (haaaalp!!).