Wave after wave of women from near and far have reached out to say what my recent Orion essay has meant to them. I am filled with gratitude each time another one shares their story, and humbled to be the collector of such stories, to be the one given the honor to hold them, together.

One glorious outcome was that my essay was featured in Memoir Land’s “Memoir Monday” personal essay roundup. But sharing it on my Sea Cow feed as well as on social media have resulted in the most heartwarming and meaningful feedback. While the ones I share here were typed in messages, quite a few colleagues stopped by my office and thanked me for what I wrote. My young summer intern texted, my mentor sent an email (note: these are both men, and even though the post title is women, hearing from men reading my writing is heartwarming as well).

And when I say “near and far,” one long-ago lab acquaintance reached out all the way from New Zealand to let me know that my essay “hit me in the feels hard enough that I’m currently hiding in my office with the door shut until the tears and snot stop enough that I don’t look like a biohazard.” I won’t share here the painful story of her reproductive life and losses here, but trust me that her sharing them with me caused my own tears to flow. “The beauty and elegance that you weaved the whales, the science, your struggles, and the gift of your son together is a massive gift to the universe, and when people do good shit, I’m trying to take the time to let them know that what they have done resonates and makes the world a better place.”

A new substack buddy, Nancy Forde, had this to say:

In her piece, I admire her questionnaire framework and the way Mary Beth filters deeper meaning from standard scientific analysis like a baleen. She helps readers question the intent and purpose of these forms we’ve all filled out as women, one time or another. The hidden design and often the bias of their insistent scrutiny upon our lives.

But neither humans nor whales can be so summarily reduced to statistics. We are individuals with singular responses to our reproductive paths and experiences. We will surface for breath as long as we can because often the only alternative is to sink and drown.

Thank you for this exquisite inquiry, Mary Beth!

You can read Nancy’s full post here.

Writing comes with so much rejection and many times even when our writing is published, we may never hear that our words reached anyone at all. I’m so grateful that this time, folks were moved to let me know what my words meant.