We're All In This Together

I just finished reading Unbuttoned: Women Open Up About the Pleasures, Pains, and Politics of Breastfeeding. It's worth picking up, though there are definitely some dud essays. The overall bent of the book is middle of the road on nursing: it's a nice thing to do when it works out, but if for some reason it doesn't, it is not the end all be all of motherhood and your kid isn't going to end up on the short bus because of it. Phew!

One of the editors, Dana Sullivan, also contributed a particularly insightful essay called "We're All in This Together," which I cannot so much as even glance at without singing the Ben Lee song. In the piece Sullivan theorized that the reason that moms spend so much time judging other moms is "we're so insecure we can't help ourselves." She goes on:

Little more than a generation ago it was almost a given that a woman would stop working, at least for several years, to stay home and raise children. And since women in our mothers' generation followed their doctors' orders when it came to feeding with breast or bottle, it wasn't a matter that was up for discussion. Nor was it something that our mothers criticized one another about. Today some of us have the option to work or stay home -- or to do some combination of both -- and I think that having choices has made us defensive about all of them. We haven't figured out how to live and let live.

I mostly agree, but I'd tweak her interpretation slightly. I'm so unsure of my decisions that I don't dare judge other moms for choosing differently. I can't even pick out a stupid car without freaking the fuck out, so no wonder I'm having daily spaz attacks over everything from when I should wean Baby Bea, whether I should make her food at home or buy it in tiny jars, if I should put her on a nap schedule, whether or not I should go to work and if I do what kind of childcare I should get. Who am I to judge?

Maybe in days of yore, most moms raised their children exactly how they themselves were raised or maybe the opportunity to raise our own children with the goal of undoing every perceived fault of our own parents is universal. I don't know. But it is anxiety producing to have to run every minute decision through my own overly intellectualized and excessively researched filters rather than just being able to reflexively imitate (or contradict) my mother.

So every day in a thousand tiny ways, I decide from scratch what kind of mom I want to be. I want to breastfeed, but not if it takes an exorbitant amount of energy. I love co-sleeping, but dagnammit, I'm gonna get that kid on a nap schedule. I'm going back to work, but I'm only going to use childcare part-time so the Our Lady of the Flat Head gets maximum face time. We're going to raise her to be open to religion, but there's not an ice sculpture of Jesus' chance in hell that we're going to take her to church. I'm going to try to cook her food from scratch, but man, I see in my crystal ball some days of jarred food ahead too. In some ways I'm emulating my own upbringing (religion, working, napping) and in other ways I'm off the trail beaten in by my mother (co-sleeping, breastfeeding, cooking anything at all--ever).

All of these decisions are intensely personal because I sat down and literally chose them. But that doesn't lead me to be defensive about them because my insecurity leaves me weak in my convictions. Maybe for some of these issues to be less contentious (crying it out, breastfeeding, vaccines, etc.) we all just need to have much lower self-esteem. Works for me anyway.

jjk