EWW: Put down the pitchfork

In your inbox early because I’m away tomorrow....

Your EWW is coming early because I am away tomorrow night working. I wanted to revisit something I wrote about in 2016 that is sadly, heartbreakingly. still fucking valid all these years later. Way back then I wrote about a mum who lost her child at the zoo. The baby went into an enclosure. The baby was rescued. The mother was crucified online.

In Hamilton, right now, a mother is broken. She had her baby for just one day when she went to the bathroom and what looks like an awful accident happened. I won’t go into details because she deserves her privacy. She lost her baby and now she will face another brutality - people on the internet.

I wasn’t going to write about it. It seemed everyone else had written about it. I made a passing comment on Twitter way back then and my mentions became unmentionable. I’ve since left Twitter because it’s an awful place, but the comments sections on Facebook are becoming just as cruel.

At the time I had said I wanted to hug the mother of the little boy who fell at the zoo. I’ve thought the same of the mum in Hamilton. I’ve thought about the mum from the zoo often since the event. I was scared for her. I was scared for her physical safety. And I was scared for her mental health.

I’m scared for this new mum from Hamilton.

Often I find myself feeling overwhelmed by the few horrible comments I get on Facebook or in my inbox or in Twitter (even though I’m not there the obsessive still go off). The ones that say “I feel sorry for her kids” because I made a comment they didn’t agree with. It’s the easiest insult because it hurts the most.

But what would it feel like to be the subject of endless and relentless online attacks while you’re grieving? What would it be like to see people say over and over again that you should be arrested. That this is all your fault. To read over and over and over again that you’re a piece of shit. That you’re neglectful scum.

What would it feel like to have your entire life as a mother erased in an instant? Every kiss goodnight, every lunchbox prepared, every game of peek-a-boo, every blanket tucked in, every cuddle, every hand pressed to a fevered forehead? All gone.

When would all of those horrible, hate-filled voices become your own? As you recover from the most traumatic and terrifying thing you’ve ever been through? As you try to parent through this? Recover from this?

I wouldn’t be able to cope. No way.

And I’ve looked at all of this – this hatred and hysteria – and I’ve felt a deep fear.

If you think you could never be that mum you’re wrong.

The Dream (The Bed),1940 by Frida Kahlo.

Any misstep you ever have as a parent, any moment as a mother, any time you are less than perfect – you’re at risk.

If someone sees you, if something happens – you could face what this mum is facing now. What mums face every day.

Because this is the society we are living in. The braying mob is waiting. They need women to tear apart and mothers are great for this.

Because we fuck up. We all do. Show me a mother who hasn’t ever fucked up. Show me a human being who has never fucked up.

And they’re ready to catch us and begin the punishment.

This isn’t about one case or even two cases. It’s about the need for a mother to be publicly and seriously punished for not being perfect.

And every time we say “that would never happen to me” we’re putting another stone on the pile. Ready for it to be flung at her. To cause as much damage as possible.

When you say “that would never happen to me” you’re really saying:

Dear god, I hope that never happens to me.

When you say “I have five kids and I never turned my back on them once” you’re really saying:

I have to imagine that this isn’t something that could have happened to me.

Because of course you do. It isn’t as fun to tear another human being apart if at the back of your mind you know that it could have been you.

This is the same reason why women disbelieve other women when they talk about rape. If you believe it doesn’t happen often or at all, that it’s an anomaly – this violence against women – you believe that it won’t happen to you.

We think we can magic up a world where we are safe. Where our children are safe. A fair world. A just world. A world where there’s no way people will talk about us and say that we are neglectful and we deserve to have our children taken from us.

If we judge others. We might not be judged.

If the crowd is busy hanging this woman, they won’t see my inattention or my imperfection or my failures and attempts and fuck ups.

But they will. It’s the luck of the draw.

And if it happens to you – they won’t care that you were one of them the month before when someone else was being punished.

You won’t be one of them then.

And what does this do to us a society? When our default isn’t support for mothers and care and empathy and compassion? When we don’t ever even attempt to understand the nature of children? When our default is hatred and seething madness? When people are frothing with excitement when a mother fucks up?

Kiersten Essenpreis.

It was hard enough when as a parent you were concerned about what age you should start solids, whether your child was getting enough sleep, if they were reaching milestones…

It was even harder when you had to deal with everyone having an opinion on everything and that was difficult when it was people you knew.

Then it became people you didn’t know who for some unknown reason really cared about whether you breastfeed or bottle feed your baby and what type of car seat you have and is that a jolly jumper?!? And then there was how you get them to sleep – the only thing you can be sure of there is that you’re doing it wrong.

THAT was bad enough.

And now you add infamy and weeks of public flagellation and death threats and petitions.

What impact does this have on mothers?

We’re trying to build villages and they’re being burned down.

What can we do?

DON’T PICK UP THE FUCKING PITCHFORK.

It’s that simple.

When you start to say that would never be me consider if that’s really true.

Stop.

Cuddle your baby. Finish the washing. Go back to work. Call a friend.

Don’t contribute to this hate and don’t contribute to this culture.

We probably can’t end this mum-shaming and this hatred of women. But we can at least not participate in it. We can at least extend a hand to those who are being destroyed and say:

It could have been me and that scares me – but I won’t join in and I want you to be OK.

We are not different you and I. Don’t let fear divide us.

This post is speaks to mothers but only because much of what I write is mother to mother. But please don’t read that as this issue only being about mothers. Many, many comments have been from men who have NEVER known what it is like to give birth or look after a new baby on their own. This woman simply went to the bathroom, reports say she gave birth only hours before. Reports suggest she was alone. These men will never know what that feels like. They will never understand and they’re not worth my time.

I couldn’t find the artist or name of this image, it’s from The Washington Post.