Birth, Breasts, and Books

It was a funny thing to me when I gave birth to Emily and became part of the "parenting realm."
I entered a world completely different than any I'd ever been in before.

Of course there were similarities in the "keeping up with the Joneses" sort of way. I'd already experienced that most of my life, and especially so in getting married.

I avoided reading bridal magazines so that I wouldn't build my wedding into something bigger than my imagination -- and our empty wallets -- could handle.

Now it was time to avoid the parenting magazines. Only I found it harder to keep myself from them since I was such a novice at this parenting thing.

We gave birth at home. It wasn't necessarily by choice. It was all mostly due to money. We lived off of my part-time journalist salary and had to buy our own insurance. By the time Stuart got a full-time job with benefits, my pregnancy was already a "pre-existing condition"...therefore not covered under his plan.

What were we supposed to do? I hadn't ever considered homebirths before. I always thought you did that sort of thing as a hippie in '60s or some sort of environmentalist. I wasn't exactly a "bra-burning, freedom-fighting" lady, or even a "granola, tree-hugging" sort of woman. I was an '80s girl. I'd grown up with the "preppies" in the Reagan years.

But I was completely wrong and enjoyed the experience very much -- being blessed with a very normal pregnancy and delivery and having a wonderful, experienced midwife.

Hmm...

I was already an "odd duck" in the mommy realm.

So now I had a baby, and it was off to meet new moms and allow our babies to grow up together in perfect harmony, playing beside the streams filled with little singing trouts and swinging on the tire swings in the backyard. Right? Right??

Well, the first thing I found out is that my new baby didn't want to breastfeed. And given the difficulty of being a new mom and "fighting" with her for two days without success (and realizing that it hurt so much it made my toes curl), I opted to bottlefeed instead.

I can hear the collective, deep inhalation of shock as you read this. What? What?? You didn't breastfeed your baby? What was the matter with you? Were you trying to abuse your baby?

The arguments for it were endless and amazing. But breastfeeding makes babies smarter...and have less allergies...and less illness...blah...blah...blah. Didn't I want my daughter to recognize the various Sonatas by Bach and Beethoven and be able to hum them on cue?

I never ever doubted that breastfeeding was a better choice in feeding my baby. It was free, for goodness sakes. Besides my sister did it, and my nephew was a beautiful, roly-poly guy who grew wonderfully.

But it didn't work for me. I didn't pass judgment on those who chose to do it. But, boy, the stares of horror I got when I hesitatingly whispered that I didn't.

Funny that both my kids were healthy and grew up to be quite quick in the learning department. (Shhh....don't tell the breastfeeding faction.)

Hmm....

I soon became aware that the parenting world was full of many, many little battles over which way was better...lots and lots of competition over what would make our children into little stage divas or "athletes of the year." If your baby walked and talked before age "X" and began to feed himself and potty-trained and slept through the night and ate only natural organic foods and spoke three languages and...and...

But I also soon realized that every child develops at his or her own rate. As the doctor pointed out, just because a child walks by nine months doesn't mean he'll be a track star at age 8. Given the proper exposure and patience to do it for themselves, children will develop naturally -- without the pressures of the world.

Besides, I knew that as soon as their little legs gained stable footing, I was doomed to a life of running after them. And being that both of my kids were early talkers, my ears began to hurt from the constant chattering.

Hmm...

Then came preschool and public school versus private school versus homeschool.

We chose not to send the kids to preschool. The first reason stemmed from the fact that we just didn't have the money to do it. The second? They had already advanced past preschool skills and would have gained nothing except the social aspect of going.

Again, the stares of horrors...

And then we decided to homeschool them....

(Insert scary organ music with blood-curdling screams.)

Okay. From what you've already read, you know what we faced on that decision, too. *grin*

What was interesting to me as we made all these choices for our children was the amount of pressure placed on us by the world around us.

Instead of supporting each other and marveling at the way we choose to love our kids with the different avenues we take, parents begin to see it as a competition. They think, "If they're doing it that way then they must think what I'm doing is wrong.

I personally have never felt that there is only ONE way of raising kids. That's a silly thought and wouldn't work in the world we live in, not with the multitudes of personalities and styles out there. My motto has always been: There is more than one way to get to 4.

So support each other, Moms and Dads, and love your children...and each other. That's the bottom line.

No one votes for a president based on whether or not he was birthed at home or a hospital, breastfed or bottlefed, and home educated or not.

It's what we put into our kids that we'll one day reap in the way of rewards.

And how we choose to do that is up to us. It's not a competition.