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I have never, so fervently, wished for three men to have to “tough out” a fever.
Ideally while also chronically nauseous, at least slightly incontinent, and unable to wear their normal shoes.
I have never, so fervently, wished for three men to believe that their children’s health, development, and emotional struggles are exclusively their fault.
I want RFK Jr to have to comb over the physically most draining nine months of his life to figure out what he did wrong.
I want Dr. Oz to tearfully reconsider all of his allegedly perfect eating habits, exercise routines, and medication choices to guess how he “caused it.”
I want this president to believe that if he prioritized his own health and well-being for even a second during those nine months, it was at the expense of his children.
I have never, so fervently, wished for three men to experience unmedicated childbirth.
I want so much more than their suffering, of course.
I want these men to spend even five minutes with autistic people, to understand the spectacular gifts of neurodivergence. If taking Tylenol during pregnancy boosts our neurodiversity (IT DOESN’T), great. Sounds like a win for humanity.
I want a government that stops looking for a “cure” we don’t need, and stops pushing sketchy, under-researched medical treatments and supplements. Instead, I want a government that doesn’t cut food assistance for hungry families. I want a government that protects 504 plans and IEPs from the legal onslaught to undermine them. I want neuropsych evaluations and occupational therapy, feeding therapy, play therapy—every goddamn kind of therapy—fully covered by insurance and Medicaid. And then, once that’s all sorted, I want a government that asks, “Hey, what else can we do to support autistic kids and their families?”
I want a government that doesn’t strip away our most fundamental reproductive rights, and then pile on by insisting that even the choice to use a safe over-the-counter medication during pregnancy is “ideally a doctor’s decision, because I think you shouldn’t take it,” as Trump said on Monday. I want a government that claims to care this much about children to stop throwing their mothers under the goddamn bus.
After I heard Trump say “if you can’t tough it out,” something broke in my brain. I’ve been walking around in a rage ever since. So I’m aware I’m writing through a trauma response right now. I was the pregnant woman trying to do everything perfectly, afraid to treat my chronic migraines with any pain medication, during my first pregnancy. And then when doing everything “right” didn’t fucking matter and my baby got very, very sick—I was the postpartum mom awake at 3am googling for proof that I had caused my child’s chronic health condition. After my first baby almost died, I was so convinced it was my fault, it took two years of toughing it out—of silently believing this and crying every day in the car—before I could say those words out loud, in a desperate whisper, to a therapist. I was sure everyone around me already knew it and was just being kind about my failure. I was utterly shocked when she — and then, gradually, my friends, my family, my child’s doctors—told me it wasn’t true.
I want other women blaming themselves now to know: It isn’t true. Valuing your own health and comfort isn’t detrimental to your baby, ever, in any way.
I know this now because I have two spectacular, complicated children. I keep their stories offline these days, but suffice to say: If I could remove certain struggles from their lives, I would. But I never dwell on that as the goal. My kids’ neurotypes and physical health do not define them, but are woven throughout them, in every cell. And without whatever genetic alchemy that led to their differences, my kids wouldn’t be themselves. If any choice I made — at pregnancy or at any other time — “caused” these incredible people, I’d make that choice a hundred times over.
I want pregnant people empowered to make their own choices about their bodies. And I want the world to be more accepting and affirming; to meet every kind of different and disabled kid where they are, to respect the body autonomy of every mother and child. I want the mental and physical health of mothers to matter, both because it matters to the health of our children and because we have rights of our own.
But apparently, we’re not getting that world any time soon. As
wrote last week:I keep coming back to the fact that, for the likes of Trump and RFK and the MAHA movement as a whole, women’s suffering during pregnancy isn’t a bug. It’s a feature. It’s the proper order of things. It’s natural. And all the better if the ways we suffer in pregnancy and childbirth and subsequently post-partum take women out of the games historically reserved for rank male dominance. That’s sexism and misogyny, and the patriarchal protectorate for you.
So I’m left thinking about these three men, who have, between them, never done more than fifteen minutes of caregiving in their goddamn lives. Three men who have never sacrificed their bodies, in any way, for the well-being of another person. Three men who think Tylenol is the problem, not guns in schools. Who repeatedly push policies that make all of us, but especially our kids, less healthy and less safe.
And all I want is for each of them to experience unmedicated childbirth. Vaginal or C-section, I don’t care. One way or the other, just split them right in half, please.
Sorry buds, no epidural. Not even Tylenol for you. Tough it out. Think of the children.
If you’re pregnant, read this:
Why "Building a Healthy Baby" is Bullshit
Our culture grades pregnant women constantly: Are you meticulously taking your prenatal vitamins? Just saying no to wine and sushi? Getting enough protein, leafy greens, prenatal yoga? Good work, Mom! We talk about “building a healthy baby” as if we’re actually assembling them like so many Mr. Potato Head toys.
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Two Things I Love
1. Earplugs to turn down the volume.
I brought these Loop earplugs to Farm Aid last weekend, and they were so helpful for taking the edge off 12 hours of live music and crowd noise. You can still hear the magic! But it’s a little less intense. Perfect if you’re headache-prone, noise-sensitive, or have to endure another presidential press conference anytime soon.
2. Bad nail art!
My 12-year-old and I have gotten very into painting our nails while we watch our nightly show (currently burning through Never Have I Ever!). It’s extremely soothing after a day of raging, highly recommend! I’m following lots of awesome nail artists now, and reliably executing extremely mid versions of their work (here was my inspo for the set above lol). Here are all our favorite polish and tools.
This resonated so much with me. I found my pregnancies so stressful because I was constantly afraid of what I was doing wrong and how my actions might burden my kids for life. These men clearly know nothing about how mentally grueling pregnancy and motherhood can be. But even if they did, they wouldn't care because for them women and children are simply a means to an end. Nothing they do comes from a place of caring about others. It's all driven by self-interest and an imperative to do everything they can to both protect and grow their own power.
I think what touched me the most about your piece was what you said about genetic alchemy. For all I worried about the consequences my behaviors might have on my children, I cannot imagine my children being anyone other than who they are. They are magical, wonderful people and I wouldn't change a thing about either one of them, and this helps me realize that it's past time for me to release the guilt I'm still holding over my actions during and post pregnancy.
Thank you so much for this. I relate so much, especially trying to do everything right and it not mattering. My daughter was stillborn and 18 months later, my son spent 7 weeks in the NICU because his diaphragm is slightly too high, which made it hard for him to breathe initially. The amount of time I spent going over everything I did in my pregnancies to cause this was agonizing and something I don't wish on any pregnant person or parent. I am filled with rage every time I think about this cursed press conference.