A beautiful, complicated day

A few caveats: While this post is for everyone, I wrote it, particularly, for men. It discusses some very, very difficult themes. Take care of yourself while reading, and afterward.

Many ideas in the U.S. are presented as binary, this is not one of them. The experiences highlighted below are not mutually exclusive. These words, thoughts, and opinions are mine alone and do not represent anyone else's.

Today celebrates the incredible effort and love, often unrecognized, provided to us by our mothers. To all the mothers that I know, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Literally, none of us would be here without you. Here are some of my favorite words, written better than I ever may, celebrating our mothers.

This post will largely take a different direction, though. For many of us, Mother's Day serves as a gut-wrenching day of loss, pain, and confusion. Too many moms wake up today to a fresh reminder of inescapable grief and torment. I do not have children of my own but am blessed to see the power of these tiny hearts in the lives of my friends, siblings, and loved ones. I can only imagine bearing the pain of losing any of these babes from my life. Let alone the destructive power of having a child's life taken from their mother. And yet in the U.S., the untimely death of children is all too common. Regardless of our politics, we can all share a moment to mourn, together, and perhaps commit to meaningful action of prevention. There is, truly, too much loss felt today.

My very first "career" was working as a CNA in a pediatric intensive care unit. Supporting families through some of their most stressful and terrifying days remains one of the greatest and most humbling privileges of my life. I am reminded, this morning, of so many small moments of love and tenderness that I saw in those hospital rooms. Of the powerful dedication to a life, a heart, outside of our own bodies. And, I am reminded of the truly shattering pain of losing that child. To those mourning their children today, please know that I see you. Your pain is awful and valid. You are not alone, and you are loved.

I am reminded of my friends and loved ones who would be celebrating Mothers' Day today but for the loss of a pregnancy. Please know that I see you. Your pain is awful and valid. You are not alone, and you are loved.

And I think also of the often silent suffering of those unable to conceive. My heart goes out to the women in my life who would thrive as mothers, and who dream of raising beautiful, loved children, were they able. Please know that I see you. Your pain is awful and valid. You are not alone, and you are loved.

And to my friends with post-partum depression. The fact that it's so hard for me to find words to speak to you here is perhaps emblematic of how little we humanize your experience. You deserve better. You are not alone, and you are loved.

It's fair to say that every woman deserves better. And none of this is to ignore the intersectional harshness and violence experienced across that broad spectrum of race, class, and gender. Whether or not you're an "All Lives Matter" person, we can be honest about the experiences and challenges of our neighbors. Our loved ones. And if you are more likely to say "All Lives Matter" please at least read this article, as a starting point to an expanded perspective.

And with that, it's important to acknowledge that today also marks the first Mothers' Day in the U.S. after the overturning of Roe v. Wade. Here's where some of you might think, "Stupid liberal, abortions kill babies and are the exact opposite of motherhood." That's a conversation for another time. Instead, I'll simply say that despite what the news cycle wants us to believe, our lives transcend politics. Each of us is more complex and multi-faceted than Right vs. Left. And while we can remove those labels and barriers to understanding each other from our minds, we *must* remember the real-world impact of "politics." The laws that exist, are passed, or overturned fundamentally affect the health and wellness of our lives and of our children's lives.

For instance, when I was in nursing school, an instructor of mine who specialized in Mother-Baby care once told me, "The healthiest babies are the ones who are planned, wanted, and supported." Regardless of our politics, we can all agree on the precious beauty of healthy babies. Their coos and smiles lower blood pressure, and we all know how great that "new baby smell" is. But the U.S. already experiences the worst maternal post-partum outcomes among the developed nations, and we have for some time . And these negative outcomes are dramatically different for white and black mothers as well.

We can and must do better. Not as an empty platitude in a LinkedIn post, but in the real day-to-day experience of the mothers of this planet. We are better than this.

(As an aside, when seeking sources I came across this article about the Bloom Network , which I encourage you to check out)

As a man without a uterus, it's all too easy for me to abdicate much of the responsibility here. To "stay in my lane," so to speak. Well, let's do both. Guys, let's take responsibility for what's happening to the women, mothers, and other people with uteri, and let's stay in our lane. This Mothers' Day, I'll encourage you, and especially fathers, to examine your place and role in patriarchy, such as it stands. Where can we find balance, the other 364 days of the year? Many men are raised to believe we are not enough. That we're not good enough, not strong enough. This pain and shame can lead us to overcompensate in some areas and underperform in others. And that's the best-case scenario. (We won't talk about the "at worst" here, but it's a warranted discussion.)

For now, to my brothers, I'll offer the question, "Are you taking care of your true needs? Your personal, unique needs, rather than the ones society says you're "supposed" to have. Are you caring for yourself such that you have the emotional space and energy to support the mothers in your life, in the ways they are asking of you?"

Also, "Where can you teach your children the beautiful, healthy aspects of masculinity? What can you show them, such that those happy babies grow into healthy, emotionally well-developed men?" Or if they are not boys, how can you teach them to identify safe men to have in their lives, and leave alone the Alpha Men? ("Alpha" as in the software description for a pre-release build, thus not suitable for the public). Here's a reminder fellas: It's your job to heal yourself, not your partners.

I would also encourage anyone without a uterus to listen to the lived experiences of those folks who have a uterus (or had one, as well). Listen to the stories and the challenges and the fear and the pain of those forced into motherhood, whatever the cause or reason. Believe and take seriously their pain. Acknowledge and honor and commit to ending the awful reality of women being forced to carry non-viable pregnancies to term, extending their suffering for months, often at great risk to the life of the would-be mother. (Many times carrying these non-viable pregnancies to term can also severely harm the chances of future viable pregnancies as, well.)

Truly I believe we all, again, regardless of politics, have more in common and share more values than we are led to believe. If you take nothing from this Mothers' Day post except for one thing, dear reader, I beg you to listen to (and believe) the stories and experiences of people with a uterus. Listen with open ears and an open heart.

(Also, this seems as good a place as any to remind my friends without uteruses that menstruation is not gross, unprofessional, or inappropriate. Periods are natural and more than half of the people on this planet live much of their lives experiencing periods. Your mom had a period. Many of your daughters will have periods. It's fine. You're fine. I promise.)

Lastly, I'd also like to take a moment to acknowledge the children and adults whose mother is or was unable to be the mother that they needed. Life is so very hard, and sometimes beautiful things come from those challenges. Other times, though, those challenges can consume us, hurt us, and leave us unable to recover. If you are someone whose mother could not give you the love that you needed, I am so very sorry. It's not your fault. If you are not at a place to hold compassion and forgiveness for her, that's ok. (I'll hold it for you) Your grief, your pain, your healing are yours. They are your burden to bear, I'm afraid, but also it is your choice how you process and heal. There is no shame if you are struggling today. As before and with others, I can only say that I see you. Your pain is awful and valid. You are not alone, and you are loved. (And I promise that you are worthy of that love.)

While much of this post feels heavy, I will reiterate that today can be such a wonderful day of celebration. My own mom is an incredible badass. She's an accomplished pilot. She worked for the Federal Aviation Administration for 31.5 years, maintaining all of the field and approach equipment allowing planes to navigate in the NW and NE regions of Oregon. If you've landed safely at PDX anytime after the late 1980s, thank my mom. My mom is a great baker, an even better beer brewer, a talented landscape and wildlife photographer, and one of my favorite oil painters. Still, my relationship with her is complicated. And that's ok. We're figuring it out.

Happy Mothers' Day

Additional readings and resources:

"The New Jim Crow" by Michelle Alexander

"Feminism is for Everybody" by bell hooks

The Trevor Project

Find a Therapist