Thank you for marching. Love, Me.

I knew by last Wednesday I wouldn’t make it to the march. My six-year-old had had a fever for 3 days, I was calling out of work and trying to get him to the doctor, and my nursing work schedule included non-negotiable 12 hour shifts on Friday and Sunday.

I was desperately sad when I woke up on Saturday and, like every normal human, pulled my phone from under my pillow and started scrolling twitter. All these beautiful women I love and admire, my friends! Together on The National Mall with their children. Arms linked, posters cutting, experiencing history’s counterpoint to Friday’s stiff and depressing presidential inauguration. And here I was in my PJs. A bad mom for not bringing my son to the momentous even, a bad woman for skipping the rising up of the sisterhood.

But wait, forget that guilt. You marched for me. I’m a single parent of a young child. I struggle with being a mom without a partner or adequate child support, a professional with no job flexibility to accommodate my role as parent, and due to the unaffordable nature of childcare lean on the support of my own mother to help raise my child. Also, I’m a cancer survivor and the ACA keeps me covered with health insurance and free from the fear of medical bankruptcy. Last, I am fortunate in this time of health professional shortages to work with a diversity of talented professionals from all over the world. I worry that through fear mongering or bad policy I will lose these irreplaceable nurse, tech, and doctor colleagues caring for our sick and elderly.

So to everyone who marched–I couldn’t be there on Saturday to show my support. I am forever grateful to you for marching.