Well, another Mother’s Day and Father’s Day have come and gone. Even though theyāre just Hallmark holidays, we try our best to honor them, but theyāre never very satisfying.Ā
Mothers usually get breakfast in bed or taken out to brunch, and maybe some earrings or a bracelet. Fathers used to get neckties, but no one wears those anymore, so now itās just a card that makes fart noises and a random power tool. Iāve always thought that having Father’s Day a month after Mother’s Day was emblematic of its status as an afterthought.
āOh s$#!, itās Fatherās Day already? Weād better stop by Home Depot on the way home.ā
If youāre ambitious, you can take the whole family out to a ballgame, but your youngest kid usually gets bored and cranky by the third inning, and your oldest eats too much cotton candy and spews pink and blue vomit all over your āWorldās Best Dadā T-shirt.Ā
Who could compete?
This year, Pippa and I took Jess out for a Mother’s Day dinner, and we asked her to regale us with the story of Pippaās birth. Like all birth stories, it was unique in every detail, and universal at the same time. As I listened, I was struck by the sheer physicality of it: the overwhelming contractions, the exhaustion, the uncontrollable urge to push, and the flood of euphoria when she lifted infant Pippa to her breast. Even though I was present at the birth of my daughter Maddie ā and actually delivered her with my own hands ā my memories of that day are etched more into my mind than my body.
If youāre a dad like me, youāre probably in awe of the bonds that our children forge with their mothers. Sometimes we feel like second-string ball players ā working hard on our games, deeply invested in our teams, living and dying with every play, but never the first to step on the field. Mothers have a nine-month head start in the major leagues, nurturing and protecting a growing life with their very flesh and blood. How can we compete with that?
Benefits of the bullpen
Of course, the intensity of that bond can have its drawbacks. Sometimes, when Jess and Pippa butt heads, Iām reminded that thereās no parent-child relationship as loaded as the one between mothers and daughters. When two beings are hardwired for social connection, they have to navigate the path from complete dependency to complete individuation amid the constant threat of suffocation, abandonment or betrayal. When those bullets start flying, Iām all too happy to hunker down and stay out of the line of fire.Ā
Still I canāt help but be a little bit envious. No one becomes a parent so they can sit on the bench. The other day, though, I read an article that shifted my perspective. It was about microchimerism.

Illustration courtesy Heighten Science Publications Inc(HSPI)
Micr0what?
A chimera is a creature that contains parts of more than one individual. Think Egyptian sphinxes, or maybe Harry Potterās hippogryph. Microchimerism is less spectacular, but in a way more amazing, because it actually exists.Ā It turns out that women who have carried a fetus retain some of that fetusās cells in their body, perhaps for the rest of their lives. Itās only a small fraction of the totalā weāre talking less than one in a million ā but because we have so many cells (about 100 trillion), there can be tens of millions of fetal cells persisting all over the motherās body for years.
Itās not clear yet what those cells are doing there, but weāre finding some intriguing clues. Most of them are fetal stem cells, with the ability to morph into all kinds of specialized cells under the right conditions. It turns out that these cells tend to migrate to parts of the motherās body that have been damaged, and require healing. One place where this has been documented is in the motherās heart, which goes through an enormous amount of stress during pregnancy and labor. In mice, fetal cells have been found congregating in the motherās heart after birth, and appear to be helping with its recovery and repair.
Reading that was kind of a mic-drop moment for me. You mean mothers literally carry living pieces of our children in their hearts? Sometimes you just have to step back and let your ace do her thing. Welcome to the big leagues.
Standing ready
So when Father’s Day rolls around, donāt get discouraged if you arenāt the starting pitcher. Go take your place in the bullpen, keep your arm warm, and wait for your number to be called ā because it will be. At some point, the starter will lose her control, or start to wear down, or just get batted around the yard. At any moment, you might have to climb that mound and take the ball in your hand.Ā
Youāre not second-string. Youāre the closer.
Jeff Lee is running out of room for his power tools in Seattle, WA.