Learning that I was going to be a mother 19 years ago was one of the best (and scariest!) moments of my life. I spent nine months nurturing my body and the baby inside it. I watched my belly grow and felt him kick for the first time.
Even before my son was born, I knew I would do anything to protect my child. I would go to the ends of the earth so he wouldn’t feel pain. The love I feel for my son is so strong that I would die to keep him safe.
That’s why I refuse to consume dairy products.
The way the dairy industry treats mother cows is enough to make any mother sick to her stomach. Don’t believe me? Keep reading.
To produce milk, animals in the dairy industry are continually impregnated inside cramped, filthy factory farms. They feel their babies grow inside them, just like I did with my son, but they will never be able to raise their children.
If my son and I were cows, he would be immediately dragged from my side. I would scream for the farmer that was taking him to stop and run after them as far as I could go. Once he was out of my sight, I would continue bellowing for him to come back. He would be gone. He would never be coming back.
For the days that followed, he would cry out to me from a tiny crate, but I would never be able to console him. He would cry out of hunger, but I would never be able to nurse him because humans steal my milk to sell.
My son would never see the sunlight. He would never play with other cows. My son would never know how much I loved him. He would only know sadness. He would only know pain. My son would only know cruelty.
After two short weeks, his cries would stop. He would be hauled off and his throat would be slit at just two weeks old. His body would be dismembered before being sold to supermarkets and labeled “veal.” He would eventually become someone’s dinner.
Female cows born into the dairy industry would be in the same cycle. Eventually their bodies would be able to produce newborns and my daughter would know the same heartbreak that I did. She would see her sons stolen from her. She would watch her daughters cry out for their children. It would be a normal day in the dairy industry.
Once I could no longer produce children or enough milk, I too, would be carted off to a horrendous fate. If I were lucky enough to still be strong, I would walk to the back of a truck and be crammed in with other cows. If I couldn’t even stand, the dairy industry would use any method they could to make me move.
If I refused to move, I would be dragged…
...and eventually, I would be slaughtered. I would have died unable to protect any of my children, leaving behind daughters who would know nothing different. The cycle would continue.
I was lucky enough to spend 19 years of my life raising and protecting my son. And I believe all mothers, whether they be humans or not, deserve to raise their children free from suffering and fear.