The amount at which society underestimates the value of mothers is astounding to me. Though in the same breath – I completely understand it. Because I’ve done the exact same thing my entire life. 

Naturally as I find myself navigating the process of pregnancy, I look for the wisdom and guidance of those that have already journeyed this experience that now lays before me. And holy shit. Women undersell their amazingness so much it’s inconceivable. I have vastly, greatly, naively, IGNORANTLY underestimated women. 

Do you know what women just DO and not think about it? Like, they think absolutely nothing of it. They pass these watermelon sized beings from their bodies (piece of cake) and basically laugh it off, affectionately smile at their offspring, and tell you a funny story about nearly bleeding out on the table. 

You know how you’ve heard of the Man-Cold? I’m essentially having the Man-Pregnancy. Everything that happens to me in this pregnancy is AWFUL. Like, WORST. Like, unimaginably difficult. 

I have only actually had vomit expel my body like, twice. And I have had a fair-share of low-grade (and sometimes not-so-low grade) nausea. I have had the occasional back pain. (Oh and the hormones are REAL) And I will be the first to tell anyone that will listen about the intense trails and tribulations of this process.  

Most women though, they are quiet, peaceful beings. They could puke everyday, have searing siatica, swollen appendages, acne, stretch marks… the works. And be like: “Oh you know, it’s got its challenges but I’m doing okay.” 

Like wtf?

If I were to ever build an army. I would make it up of entirely women. No, not women. MOTHERS. Because those bitches are the roughest, toughest, baddest muthafuggas I’ve ever met. 

They can get their abdominals cut open one day – and be up walking around and cleaning the kitchen the next day. THE NEXT DAY. What man does that? Good lord – I wouldn’t do that! I would lie on my bed surrounded by rose pedals and demand that I be treated as though I were an inch from my death. I would require a violinist and perhaps a cello. 

Mothers are literally the shapers and creators of our culture. They have the power to create huge shifts by molding and guiding our youngest generations. Mothers are endlessly capable – balancing not only a huge mental workload memorizing lists, dates, appointments, and schedules – physically they can deny themselves sleep for an unimaginable length of time, and they have this vast emotional capacity to hold space for wounded young. Oh right, let’s also not overlook their ability to do all of this while being critiqued, criticized, and constantly undermined by society. 

All that before breakfast; no problem. 

How do we not acknowledge their value? Their true, authentic impact? How do we easily glaze over the accomplishment it is to instil even the most modest level of rational in a toddler. Do you know how hard that is?? To reason with someone under the age of 5?? A mother that’s accomplished the ability to carry even the slightest conversation with a tiny-human should be worshiped. 

Hats off to all of you. All of you that pushed out a human being (or multiple) and still don’t think twice about it. To those of you that sustained immense physical injury to bring another onto this plane. To those of you that scarified your own wellbeing, rest, health, time, freedom – to ensure that another’s needs could be met. To those of you that relinquished your career ambitions, the pursuits of your own heart (even if only temporarily) – put aside your own desires to nurture the life of another. 

I get that this sacrifice is inherent. Biological. Maybe that’s why we don’t value it. Because it’s simply the way it IS. But when you actually take a minute to think about it. To put it on paper and look at what it really is… it’s a really BIG FKING DEAL. 

You see, I am at the stage in which this love for my unborn child is pretty hypothetical. It’s abstract, and conceptual. Therefore, all I can see right now is the immense amount of sacrificing I am about to do. And it’s hard for me. I actually, wholeheartedly admit that I DO NOT WANT TO. I am selfish. I like my life, my job, my sleep, my body. I do not want this taken from me. 

And that’s why I admire those that have done this so willingly, and all of it without seeking recognition or appreciation. I still hate those “I’m a mom, what’s your superpower?” T-shirts… but that does sum it up pretty good. 

I’ll tell you right now. I do want to be acknowledged. I feel I deserve it. People get Purple Hearts and medals for things that are done by mothers on a weekly basis. Yet somehow mothers, more often than not, are shamed and criticized at every opportunity – when even the WORST mother on the planet STILL scarified her physical body to put someone else on the planet. 

I will openly fight for mothers to be acknowledged for the insurmountable, unfathomable amount of investment that it takes from their body, minds, life, and emotional self. Because this is a big deal. Even if it is biological and inherent… it’s a BIG. Freaking. Deal.

So bow before me peasants, as I too embark on the journey of motherhood.