So as I circled my home on Sunday between a dying Frigg, an injured Astrid, and a living Sigyn, Sif, and Skaði, so brain dead from lack of sleep that I completely forgot to watch the church live stream, unable to stop checking on everyone, there was a certain calm strength in my core because this was me being a woman, fully and completely. This was in a way part of my God-given earthly glory: attending birth and death. I raised Frigg from a baby. She was a day old when I got her, and I was determined to be there at her death. She was mine. My little, mortal soul to tend, and tend her I would through every step of her short life.

Being feminine requires great courage and wisdom and love. Stay in the fight, sisters. We must not allow the world to tell us motherhood is only changing diapers and thus boring, unimportant, and something we can do without. Motherhood is who and what we are down to our very bones. We must not allow the world to take true femininity away from us.