for mothers

I am an independent woman, a strong woman, someone who has always relied on myself and rarely compromises or backs down from anything I truly believe in. I’ve always loved powerful, creative, strong women and have often been inspired by them. Whether professionals, professors, authors or artists, the power and strength from a focused creative woman is passionate. But there is one thing that makes me angry. Occasionally there is an idea, an undercurrent that I sense from both individuals and society, that somehow a woman with a family, with a spouse or partner, or even more so with children, is somehow less powerful, less independence, less passionately strong, less fierce in her pursuits.



I have a family now. I’ve has a family for a while, but now I have a baby. A great deal of my energy, my time and my spirit goes towards nurturing my baby boy, supporting him, my partner and our family, taking care of us all day to day. I got a new package of cloth diapers in the mail today. A bigger size, they’re being prepped in the washer right now. I feel a calmness and happiness unwrapping them from their box, washing them and taking them out of the dryer, warm in my hands as I stack the now fluffy fabric in the cold laundry room. This very simple task, the feel of this fabric on my skin, the care I take in the lot of it gives me a moment of stillness and intent. But don’t for one second think this takes away from my strength, or diminishes my lofty goals. Don’t for one minute think that I am somehow less than I was before. Don’t you dare think I am somehow not as strong or fierce or passionate. If you think that you have absolutely no idea what it means to parent or to partner.

The hardest thing I’ve ever done is give birth to my son, nurture him, begin to raise him and begin to transition through the growth it has given me. It was not the labor or giving birth that was hard. It was not the sleepless nights or the daily acts. It was realizing that birthing in the traditional American way was not nurturing or safe for any of us, and figuring out how to afford and protect our right to birth at home as we knew was right for our family. It was the discovery of what was right for me, the grasping of it, and the standing up for it. Giving birth to my son at home made me more of myself. Deciding what kind of pregnancy I wanted for myself and for him made me more of myself. Deciding what kind of entrance I wanted to give him into this world made me more of myself. Deciding how I would deal with his colic, his cries, his hunger and his smiles made me more of myself. It doesn’t lessen my passion, rather it gives me strength in my convictions, strength in myself. Losing all my time and freedom has been difficult. Having a baby who doesn’t nap, loves only to be held, and is just now, most nights, sleeping for a couple of hours at a time has been difficult. And yes most of my time is now spent on his care, not in reading, or exercising, or working on something tangible. But it has also been spent dreaming, imagining, and loving, as I was forced into mental and emotional stillness where you cannot disguise yourself with your pursuits. Having children or living in a family is challenging because it takes away a lot of your crutches. I can no longer mold the world to my benefit and do what needs doing or I want to do. Rather, I’m challenged to build my strength of character, to focus my ideas, interests and insights, claiming seconds for myself rather than hours. It doesn’t make me weaker, rather it makes my mindset stronger. I can not be a child, emotions and insights at the whim of outside sources. I have to keep the stillness I’m forced into inside of myself to keep my path straighter than the tip of a pen.



All of these things make me stronger and more of myself, as long as when I do have those seconds or minutes I stand up for myself, claiming every dream I’ve had for son, as well as myself.

Having a family doesn’t make you weaker, it makes you stronger. Having a family doesn’t dilute you, it increases your potency. So never doubt a mother again.

Loving people does not make you compromise yourself, it filters out the insignificant and challenges you to be not just what you imagine yourself to be but what others might see in you, moving you closer to who you really are. It tests you, to see if you’re willing to rise up for your own truth.

I love my little family, I take care of them, they challenge me, they embrace me, and embracing them fuels me with fire that burns hotter than ever before, fire to do, to accomplish, to be, to enjoy and to live.