Today, my baby is 6 months old.
One hundred eighty-four days ago, the Mr woke up to find me in my 7th hour of contractions; they had started around 12:30, but I had labored in silence, needing the calm and quiet time to myself to mentally prepare for the coming hours.
In just a few hours, I will have had my four thousand, four hundred sixteenth hour with my daughter. Where have all those hours gone?
Today marks a special set of accomplishments for me and my family. Our daughter is healthy, happy, hitting cognitive and development milestones as or well before expected. We have successfully breastfed exclusively for 6 months–which is 6 months longer than I thought I’d be capable of doing; I accomplished this on the strength of my will, the bond I share with my daughter, and the support and love of my partner. I have discovered strength in myself and my family I never dreamed possible.
I never really thought of myself as a rebel or revolutionary material prior to getting pregnant. Sure, I lived a somewhat alternative lifestyle and I had some things over which I felt very deeply convicted.
But I didn’t feel the boil in my blood, the call to stand strong and bold no matter the consequences, until I was confronted with the idea that my child (I didn’t know she was a daughter yet) might suffer an injustice or have a need go wanting because of unfair policies put in place by politicians who would never be affected by the votes they cast.
Today, my daughter is 6 months old, and there is a man as the figurehead of our country who is actively pursuing policies that jeopardize the future I want for her. I am scared for her. I am scared for the millions of men, women, and children, both at home and abroad, who will be negatively impacted by the Trump administration’s plans.
I am scared, but I don’t have the option of letting that fear paralyze me. I have to be a part of protecting the future I want for my daughter. It’s my responsibility as her mother, it’s my duty as a human, and it’s my need as a sentient member of this planet.
I was originally going to write, today, about the joy and hardships motherhood has brought me. But what I keep coming back to is that motherhood has taught me how far I’m willing to go, not just for my daughter but for all those I love. Motherhood has taught me how hard I’m willing to work to improve my world.
Motherhood has birthed the warrior in me.
Falling Into the Penseive 