On the madness of the world

I would like to chime in. However briefly and inconsequentially. This blog post will be hastily written but also from the heart. I am terrified and enraged about the actions unfolding from our nation’s capitol.

Through this blog, I have connected with mothers (and a couple of fathers) from around the world. Australia. Pakistan. England. Indonesia. Nigeria. South Africa. United Arab Emirates. Canada. Singapore by way of Turkey (love you, Hatice and Miray!) and Ohio (Hi Sylvia!) and Illinois (Hey Erin!) USA.

Thanks to technology, in my darkest hour and through today, I have heard and continue to hear from mothers across the globe. And the simple truth is this: We are all the same.

My baby wouldn’t eat. I remember feeling like I was going insane. I remember feeling so isolated and consumed with worry. I remember feeling like it was my fault. Then I started this little blog and it became a lifeline. You all saved me. Regardless of nationality, religion or circumstance, you said, “Me too!” You shared with me your feelings, too. And as it turned out, your feelings were identical to mine. We are the same. A transcendent sisterhood.

That is why I am grateful for the difficult experiences of my own early months and years of motherhood. Goodness! My old self would slap my face if she heard that! I was angry and dark and so anxious I could not eat. I resented Pampers commercials featuring cherubic sleeping babies with tape- and tube-free cheeks. But even amid all that angst I did not and could not blame or turn against others. It would’ve been easy, too. There are many in this country who blame their lack of prosperity–and lack of decent healthcare for that matter–on “others.” But I know better. Partly because I come from a family that once had very little. But mostly because when I reached out, you reached back. I owe you a debt of gratitude.

When the President of the United States, who by the way lost by about three million votes including mine, chooses to shut out the world in order to fake a feeling of safety, every cell in my body resists. Only through connection and openness can we maintain our humanity and wellbeing. I learned that firsthand.

All my love,

Amber

 

 

 

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About amberhj

Mom, writer, worrier. And a stubborn idealist nonetheless.
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