Four months in, it started to occur to me that I don't know nothin' bout birthin' or raisin' no babies myself. In my spare time, which I find myself with a lot of these days, I peruse Pinterest a lot.
This last week, I found myself reading about the ideal breast-feeding scenario, and let me tell you, it scared the shit out of me. I totally believe it's the best thing to do, but it never dawned on me that it would basically be best if I just remain topless for at least the first month and a half of my baby's life. It also never dawned on me that it was recommended to breast feed even just a little bit until the little shark is about two years old--or however long she wants. Is anyone else scared by that besides me?
In addition to this Pin, I've read at least two others about developing birth plans and all the things that they normally do to your baby as soon as it's out. One of them discussed all the downsides to not going au naturale and let me tell you, as someone who thinks of herself as a moderate, I am now afraid that birthin' my baby will be like a scene from the original "Exorcist" because I know myself well enough to know that labor without an epidural is not an option for me. In the last year, I've had a couple of occasions to be in a great deal of pain, and on both of these occasions, the pain drove me to severe nausea. I don't want to be birthin' no baby while vomiting or even just doing a little dry heaving. So, since I am not down with skipping the epidural, I'm pretty sure that I am jeopardizing my woman card and my baby's health--or at least that's what some of these posters would have me believe.
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| Is this the alien within? |
Yesterday, I happened upon a post on Facebook from CNN about a woman who is tired of being asked when she's going to have a second child. She is continually asked, and when she responds that she has no plans for additional children, she is essentially judged as a selfish person who is denying her son the joy of having a sibling, or people are simply flabbergasted that since she is such a great mom that she wouldn't want to do it all over again. It is beyond them to understand that one is enough for some people, just like none is the right option for others.
My husband and I will only have one child. I am nearly 42, and it wasn't the easiest thing in the world to get to this point. As thrilled as I am to have Willow on the way, I am not going to be one of those moms who waxes nostalgic about how wonderful it is to be pregnant. I am not enjoying the terrible smell and food aversion I am experiencing, or the days when I feel so sick, I just want to hole up on the couch all day long, cry, and do nothing. Some days, I'm not sure that I am not losing my mind. It will all be worth it in the end, but I can't imagine doing it again.
A friend of mine recently started a blog that I am enjoying quite a bit. Christina Maki writes "Ruby Stilettos," and while she is at a different place in the mommy spectrum than I am, I have found her take on the judgement of others about how we mother to be a little bit of a relief. She freely waves her tree-hugging, earth mama flag, but she also talks about how others of her ilk sometimes judge without really considering the whole picture. I especially loved reading about her struggles with breast feeding right after the scary two-plus year of recommendations that I read prior. It made me feel like even if I try and fail, I won't be a horrible mother.
And that's the direction I want to go with this. Why do we do that to each other--about mothering or anything for that matter? I think most parents go into the situation with the intent that they want to do everything that's best for their child or children that they can. None of us embarks on this journey with the intent to harm or scar our children for life. So why are there people out there that think there's only one way to do everything?
I have a penchant for Edgar Allan Poe. For a fleeting moment I even entertained the idea of a Poe accented nursery. What non-Poe fans seem not to understand is that he didn't just write things like "The Tell Tale Heart" and the "Raven." Those are just the things he is most famous for. I have actually had people poo-poo this as an option, even though it would never occur to me to poo-poo someone's decision to do a pink room for a girl or a sports room for a boy, even though I so fervently believe that pigeon-holing your developing child into a gender-specific box like that potentially over-influences who they might choose to become.
I will add that I realize I'm not a child development specialist. I know there are theories that children assign these specific roles to themselves whether parents try to prevent it or not, but I at least want to give my child the freedom to draw whatever conclusion she chooses on her own. That's my belief. But my belief isn't better than anyone else's belief. How someone else decorates their child's nursery or room is fine by me, because it's a reflection of who they are as parents, and the wonder that they want to share with their child. Short of doing a "Dexter" kill room, I don't think there's any way you can really go wrong here.
If I'm fine with what you believe or how you live your existence, why can't you just be fine with the way I believe and live mine? I think that's the ultimate question. When I think of conflict, both personal and otherwise, every failure to meet each other half-way stems from our inability to accept that we believe and live differently.
Every horrible thing stems from this inability. Bullying at school. Conflict in the work place. Wars. We live in a world that claims to be moving in the direction of valuing the individual, but I don't believe that. I think that we are so bound to homogenization, in every form, that we will never value the individual as a society. If you don't think and do everything just like me, there must be something inherently wrong with you.
It's a ludicrous concept. There has to be a reason that the phrase "there's more than one way to skin a cat" developed. I haven't explored it, but I'll bet it's because there's more than one way to skin a cat.
There's more than one right way to do almost everything.
When we wave these judging attitudes around, we cause harm to each other. I probably should have developed some trepidation about motherhood before now, but frankly, for the last year and half, I was just so busy trying so hard to have the chance to be a mother, I didn't have time to learn everything about raising a child or to start yoga so I would be able to endure labor without drugs. I'm hoping that the fact I didn't have a well-developed timeline for everything (mostly because I wasn't even sure this would ever happen), won't put my child in harm's way.
I would imagine that like most things in my life, I will do the best I can. I will make mistakes along the way. I will have regrets. But I won't love my child any less if I fail at some things. I won't stunt my child's emotional growth if she has an Edgar Allan Poe onsie. I'm pretty sure that Willow will know that she is loved and cared for, even if I falter and feed her Chicken McNuggets once or twice.
And I also imagine that however you parent your child, or live your life, you will do the best you can too. And hopefully, nothing either one of us believes or does will interfere with each others' lives--because at the end of the day, it really doesn't have to be that way.
Communication--The Call
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