Never Underestimate the Mothers

 I remember the very first moment I knew I was pregnant. I hadn’t taken a single test yet undeniably, this was a thing that I knew. I felt different in a way I had never felt before, in a way I couldn’t even articulate. My husband didn’t believe me and of course who could blame him? I was being silly. Why did I think I was pregnant? Because I had slept a little later that morning, or had devoured that cheeseburger at the airport? Maybe. But I was different. I was changed. And six different home pregnancy tests later he believed me. Indeed, I was. We were expecting our son.

The thing is that women always know. We know our bodies, we know our children before we even know them, we know when people are trying to lie to us, or intimidate us, or control us. We know what it feels like in our gut when someone comes for one of our children, that feeling when our minds go blank and all we can think of is the feeling of hot rage and mixed with the cool steady calm that guides us toward that child. Nothing - nothing will harm them. Not mine. Not yours. We will keep them safe. From that very first day that we all knew we were about to become mothers none of us were the same. And it’s funny how we never even talk about that. But how I also know I would literally die for any of your kids. And how I know you would for mine. That’s the thing about mothers. We calmly do our jobs and pack lunches and wear our masks. We’ve got our heads down and we are just trying to get all of us through this thing. But the thing is. We know.

We know what you have done. You have messed with our kids.

We, who stayed up and watched you sleep that night when you had a fever. Who pumped breast milk every hour till our nipples were raw. Who made your baby food from scratch. Who stopped eating seventeen different foods to see which ones you were allergic to. We are the ones who are learning the new math, and driving you to that soccer tournament six hours away. We will draw your bath when your heart is broken and we have nothing else to say, and who hold our breath when you do your job and leave us like you are supposed to. We, who research every damn video game you ever play, who worry about who you spend your time with and worry if we are enough, we, who haven’t slept in months….

Did you know this? Did you know that the mothers don’t sleep anymore? None of us. Not one of us. We don’t close our eyes anymore. We can’t. We can’t bear to because when we do we see the faces of our children and of all the children and know deeply that all of the moments we spent telling them to follow the rules, care for others, to not bully or shame others, that all of that every day is just tossed on fire at public rallies where the President tells them that Covid doesn’t exist, doctors aren’t heroes but are thieves collecting money from Covid patients, masks are for pussies, running busses off of roads is good, beating up people is good, making fun of people is good. 

Our children’s lives have been stolen from them. And it fills us with a hot rage because everything we have ever done since the moment we met them has been about protecting them and teaching them right from wrong and he’s stolen it from us. And now the mothers know what we must do.

We must vote for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris. Not because we are all Democrats. We are not. But because we are all mothers who cannot lie awake wondering how we spent so much time pondering things like Fortnite and non organic Cheerios and tackle football only to have a pandemic coupled with a President and First Lady who have literally said they do not care, that what is not happening isn’t real, and that your reality does not exist, and even if it does fuck you. 

I read once some sort of urban myth about a car that overturned on a woman’s children, and that the woman, filled with adrenaline and a mother’s love, flipped over the car and rescued the children herself. And it is the image that runs through my mind most often now.

There is only one path out of this thing if the mothers will ever be able to go to sleep again. Please vote for Joe Biden. Please crawl through broken glass to do this. We have always known we would do anything possible for them, before we even knew them. We must be calm and steady, but guided by the hot rage and adrenaline, that fire we first felt inside of us when we knew we were different because of them, and that tells us they are in trouble and we must protect them.

This year has taught me how much I don’t know yet also crystalized those few tiny kernels of truth which I will take with me to the grave and this one I know with certainty.

Never, never underestimate the mothers.