The Strength Behind Every Mother

It's calving season here at the ranch in Montana. A lot of my day is spent checking cows and two-year-old heifers that are about to become mamas for the first time. It's been a while since I've spent this much time around birth. And I gotta be honest, I forgot how intense it is.

Cows can lose calves. Calves can lose mamas. Even when everything goes right, you don't really exhale until the calf is on its feet and nursing.

Over the past few weeks, I've been reminded how much it asks of the mama. And how every birth can go either way.

But here's what gets me.

Moments after a cow finishes calving, she's licking her newborn clean. Attentive. Focused. The kind of bond that would put her between her newborn and a predator without thinking twice.

Brand new calves and their mamas here in Montana

Andrea and I had both our kids at home with a midwife. I thought I knew what I was getting into. I didn't. Those were two of the most impactful nights of my life. They were also two of the scariest. There's no card, no words I've got, that can honor what Andrea did in those rooms.

This Mother's Day, I'm thinking about that defining moment where a mother becomes a mother. The way they come back from one of the hardest hours of their lives and reach for the small thing they just brought to this world.

To every mother reading this, thank you for shouldering this hard, magical work. There's no work more sacred. There's no work that gives more.

Happy Mother's Day

Your Farmer,
Cody