The Mothers We Other
When I was pregnant with my son, I worried that I might not feel the kind of maternal love I’d read about in stories. Becoming a mother had not been part of my immediate plan—what if it didn’t come naturally to me?
But then- I saw him. From the very moment I laid eyes on my newborn son, I was overcome with a deep, indescribable love—unconditional and fierce. The kind of love that would have you willing to sacrifice your own life if it means saving theirs. This was the maternal bond that I’d read about and had doubted. I didn’t need to worry.
Me and baby Cameron.
My son, Cameron, has been mostly vegetarian all of his life. Like me, he holds a deep sense of fairness and justice for all beings. After moving from the city to a more rural area near Toronto, we began to witness the animals who are used in our food system that we hadn’t had access to before. When Cameron was twelve, we began investigating the dairy industry together. We learned that mother cows are forcibly and repeatedly impregnated, carrying their baby for nine months—just as we do—only to have them taken away shortly after birth. We learned that the newborn calf will live in isolation or, if the calf is male, will be sold for his flesh.
Young cows in dairy farm in New York state.
We watched a video of a mother cow desperately calling out for her baby—one she would never see again. As a mother, I could feel her desperation and grief deeply. There was no denying that the powerful maternal love that I had experienced when my son was born was the same maternal love that this mother was feeling for her newborn son. How could we do this to them?
That day in 2007, we stopped consuming dairy. Together, we became vegan.
Painfully engorged cows from the dairy industry cry out and wreath in pain at a livestock auction.
When I look at dairy products now, I see the stolen breast milk of a mother who had perfectly created it to nourish her infant. I hear her cries for her lost child. I feel her deep desperation and grief. I see the violation of sacred motherhood stamped on every package.
A transport truck filled with lactating cows from the dairy industry arrive at the slaughterhouse durng a Toronto Cow Save vigil / L. Jorgensen / We Animals
As a long-time activist and photographer of animals I’ve witnessed, in person, the experiences of mothers who are trapped in our human food systems—on farms, at auctions, and at the slaughterhouses from which they are not spared. The fierce, nurturing love that these gentle, protective mothers have for their young is disregarded, denied and even mocked.
A mother cow from the dairy industry peers from a transport truck at the slaughterhouse. / L. Jorgensen
From the grieving cow used for her breast milk, to the mother pig who’s gone mad from the confinement of a metal crate, to the despondent hen trapped in a crowded cage in a dark shed - I’ve learned that the meat, dairy, and egg industries not only profit from, but thrive from the exploitation, confinement and suffering of the mother.
On Mother’s Day, I send a plea for all mothers to consider and protect the sacred bond of mother and child, regardless of species. If every human mother extended her compassion to mothers across all species, who desire to nurture and protect their young just as we do, animal agriculture would be brought to its knees.
I ask that you consider your freedom to love and protect your children and extend that right to them.
Because they are mothers, too.
Icarus the calf -who was rescued from a dairy farm before being sold for slaughter- now resides at Pegasus Animal Sanctuary in Port Perry, Ontario / L. Jorgensen