The federal government is experiencing a period of instability. People are losing their jobs and facing economic hardship. This means Americans will be compelled to make critical, potentially life-or-death decisions concerning their health and the well-being of their families.

I’m experiencing a sense of déjà vu. This represents yet another instance of a government seemingly insensitive to the actual health requirements of its populace. Just last week, President Donald Trump and Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. implied a connection between pregnant women taking certain medications.

Advising women to simply endure discomfort by avoiding this common over-the-counter drug is not an adequate solution. Health authorities nationwide were quick to emphasize that evidence indicates acetaminophen is an effective and safe treatment for expectant mothers and poses no risk to an unborn child. Nevertheless, for millions of young mothers and pregnant individuals, this announcement was deeply unsettling—serving as another reminder of how frequently women are expected to “power through” rather than being provided with genuine research, guidance, and support for their health concerns.

I understand what it means to attempt to “tough it out.” During each of my pregnancies, I suffered from debilitating morning sickness. My fourth pregnancy resulted in a six-week hospitalization due to a condition known as hyperemesis gravidarum. At that time, doctors were unable to determine the cause of my extreme nausea and persistent vomiting because there was no research available to explain it.

Thanks to scientific progress, 28 years later, we now comprehend both the cause and the appropriate treatment for the condition. But back then, confined to a hospital bed, I was merely instructed to endure the excruciating pain along with the constant apprehension that I might lose my child. This is just one illustration of how women have historically been affected by a lack of medical answers—not only during pregnancy, but throughout all significant junctures of our lives.

It would be a tremendous national service to furnish women of all ages with medical information grounded in facts, science, and research, enabling them to make well-informed decisions about infertility, pregnancy, or menopause. Women do not need lectures on “endurance” from a United States president who has never experienced pregnancy.

Incidentally, Black women are dying in unprecedented numbers. Maternal health is a pressing concern in this nation, and acetaminophen is not responsible for that, either.

What is needed is a government willing to invest in understanding why specific health conditions disproportionately affect certain groups, why women constitute a particular demographic, and, crucially, why a woman dies every two minutes from preventable causes globally, with significant disparities in rates compared to white women.

Where is the research that would help us address these questions? We are still awaiting answers.

Meanwhile, the practicalities of managing our nation’s health predominantly fall upon women. In most households, they are the primary health managers. They make decisions about family nutrition, when children see a doctor, how partners receive medical attention, and how elderly parents are cared for. Yet, all too often, they prioritize their own health last.

The ramifications can be severe. Women, on average, allocate more of their resources to healthcare than men, and, on average, encounter greater health challenges. Decades of underfunding and insufficient research mean women continue to receive delayed diagnoses, inadequate treatments, and are left to manage conditions that could have been prevented or more effectively addressed. And, predictably, when women’s health falters, the health of the men and children under their care also deteriorates.

This is not exclusively a women’s issue. It encompasses children’s health. It’s a men’s health issue. It is a national health issue.

Philanthropists, such as prominent individuals, have recently stepped in with substantial financial contributions. The Gates Foundation announced it would invest significant sums globally. These are commendable and welcome advancements, but philanthropic efforts alone cannot resolve the entire problem. The federal government, Congress, state authorities, insurers, leaders in business and technology, and academic institutions must all commit to bridging the women’s health disparity with billions more dedicated to research, treatment innovation, and prevention. We require an urgent, society-wide undertaking that matches the scale of the problem—and the magnitude of the opportunity.

I was proud to collaborate with the previous administration to launch an unprecedented initiative, marking the first time women’s health was positioned centrally within the federal government. That endeavor demonstrated what is achievable when women’s health is treated as a national priority. While groundbreaking, that effort was merely an initial step. What is required now is not a retreat, but rather a significant expansion.

Women’s health is a bipartisan concern, something for Congress to recall as it navigates turmoil over budgets and faces drastic reductions to medical care and research. There have been successful instances of past cooperation that benefited women. Both major political parties united to support key legislative efforts. Advancing women’s health is a universal benefit, cutting across age, race, geography, and political persuasion. There are no political divisions in the exam room.

If America is genuinely committed to confronting chronic disease, and if we are serious about restoring the nation’s health, then women’s health must be at the core of this effort. With expanded investment and greater urgency and cross-aisle cooperation, we can save lives, strengthen families, and finally provide women—our mothers, sisters, and daughters—with the care and futures they truly deserve.