So I haven't blogged in a long time. I've started posts. And deleted posts. I'm not even sure this post will be posted. But, this is on my mind at the moment, so I figured I'd start writing and see if anything sticks.
Time Magazine's new cover features an attractive, very slender mother nursing a 3 year old child as he stands in a chair and his mother strikes a supermodel pose. The article is about attachment parenting, a style of parenting that encourages...well, attachment. I've gone back and forth about whether or not I should claim this as my parenting style. I breastfeed. I wear my baby. I make his food at home. We don't let him cry it out. All of these things are consistent with the attachment parenting ideology--and I use that word intentionally. It IS an ideology. Hell, these days, it's practically a cult. The reason I don't claim it, however, is that while we do co-sleep in practice, I HATE IT. And I'm supposed to love it if I'm being all attached and stuff. More than I can say, I want Dresden to sleep in his own crib. And I have let him cry it out before, mostly because I was busy crying it out, too. So...I can't live up to all of the attachment parenting ethics, so I feel like I can't claim it at all.
And I'm not sure I want to, anyway. It has become, for better or worse, a THING now. Something to debate. Something to fuss over. And I really, really don't want other people debating how I choose to raise my kid. I'm not always going to be perfect, God knows, and I don't need society telling me when I've stopped being perfect because I always already know, thank you ever so much. I've never lived in any other time (that I know of) and I've never been a mom during any other time (that I know of), but it sure feels to me like there has never been more pressure on mothers to do certain things, say certain things, look a certain way, etc. Imagine having the hardest, most important, most emotionally and physically demanding job in the world and going about your business knowing that the whole world is watching, waiting for you to do something that could stir up some controversy. It makes an exhausting gig even more exhausting. And I don't think I'm being overdramatic, either.
For example, I talk about breastfeeding an awful lot. Why? Because it was important to me. I knew the benefits and possible drawbacks, and I decided that it was something I wanted to do. My husband agreed. So, together, we set out to breastfeed Dresden exclusively for six months. Only thing is...it was hella hard, guys. I mean. I wept bitterly for a long time because Dresden wouldn't latch, my milk took a whole week to come in (which is virtually unheard of), I threw out my back and couldn't give him any of the milk I had to keep pumping, he took five or six months to learn to latch without a nipple shield, and he nursed the whole day. I'd have to sit down with him and nurse him 14 times a day. No exaggeration. FOURTEEN TIMES. When he was four months old, I called his pediatrician, and the nurse refused to put me through, telling me that giving him any kind of supplement would lead to childhood obesity and that I had to tough it out.
O..k..a..y. But I'm a Ph.D. student who is taking classes and teaching and studying, and this just wasn't practical advice for us. So we BROKE THE LAW, y'all. We gave him cereal. And it helped! But man, the furor raised when I mentioned this on an internet forum! I had ruined my kid's entire life. I made a selfish choice. I was b-a-d, BAD. I vacillated between feeling intensely guilt and thoroughly relieved.
And that's exactly how I would describe motherhood. It's ups and downs all day long. One minute, I'll feel like a supermom, balancing my work, my family, and my social life as easily as I breathe. The next minute, I've just slammed my baby's face into an automatic sliding door because I wasn't paying attention and the stupid thing only opened half way. Now he has a bruised dome, and everyone knows I'm the worst mother in the world.
I feel so strongly about this new Time story because I feel like it promotes this kind of cycle. "Are You Mom Enough?" it asks. And the answer is always, always, always no. I'm not. I'm trying. God knows I am trying. But at the end of the day, I know I could have been more patient. I could have smiled at him more. I could have encouraged him to play with more educational, developmental toys instead of whatever he wanted. I could have made a point to show him what a loving, secure relationship his father and I have, even if I had to force it sometimes. I could have been better. These things are important to me, but they're frequently the things that I fail to do and the very things I wish I had done. I go to bed each night, asking myself if I've done enough for my son to grow up healthy, happy, and confident. I don't need Time Magazine asking me those same questions.
I've read a good bit about social attitudes towards mothers, and I've talked to my friends about their attitudes regarding breastfeeding, and the feeling I get from all of these sources is that it's all far too public. Women feel pressured to breastfeed, like they're somehow less of a mom if they don't. It makes me nervous to hear my friends say this because I wonder if I'm somehow complicit. I hope that I'm a positive role model should they decide to breastfeed, but I also hope that I'm not a nagging voice telling them they're mothering wrong if they don't. For me, it was the right choice. I had conviction that breastfeeding was the best thing I could do for my son, and I stuck it out even though it was difficult, and for that I am proud of myself. Staying true to your convictions in the face of adversity is something to be proud of, and I will not shy away from that or disclaim it one bit. That said, I would hope that I learned from hearing people say it wasn't enough and that I should have exclusively breastfed for at least six months. I hope that I've learned enough to be supportive of my friends, however they choose to parent. Being told that something you're proud of simply isn't up to muster is downright damaging, and that is exactly where a lot of the discourse surrounding motherhood is today. It's not enough for you to breastfeed. You have to exclusively breastfeed, on demand, for six months, preferably a year. It's not enough for you to share a room with a child, you have to share your bed. It's not enough for you to make his food yourself, it has to be organic and locally grown. The list goes on and on.
"Are You Mom Enough?" Bite me, Time Magazine. You are part of the problem.
