The Lorix Chronicles

My father came to me with an idea when I started The Lorix Chronicles.

“You should write about natural health and cloth diapers and that sort of thing.”

My mind flashed back to two years ago, when my daughter was a year and a half. I wanted to start a blog called Informed and Aware, about cloth diapers,vaccinations,breastfeeding and the many choices we have as parents. I was going to help people become informed…and aware. Even with the load of parenting magazines and books about parenting, I thought parents were uninformed and unaware.

“Dad, there are a lot of blogs and websites like that already. I think I’ll just stick to what I’ve been writing.”

“But you use cloth diapers and homeopathic medicines and all of that. I think people would want to know more about it.”

“No, Dad. Parents get that stuff shoved down their throats all the time. They don’t need more of it.”

What I meant to say was “I don’t need more of it.” I’ve had enough. One expert advises sleeping with your child, while another says it’s best to let your baby cry it out.  Some mothers nurse their children until they are toddlers and others scoff at such perversion. Reading parenting books and listening to parenting advice leaves me feeling confused and conflicted.  No, the world doesn’t need any more parenting advice.

Before Beatrix was born someone told me “Do what works best for you and your family.” When I found what worked best for me, I began to pass judgment on parents who did things differently. If someone commented on Beatrix’s cloth diaper, instead of saying, “Yes, we use cloth,” I would go into a whole speech. “You should see the way they make these things. They’re awesome. They’re cute and easy to use. If you ever want to try, let me know and I’ll help you find the right ones.”

I wasn’t trying to inform. I was trying to convert.

Do what works best for you and your family became You should do what I do because it works best for me.

Why did I care how other people raised their children? Why did it matter which parenting philosophy (if any) they followed, if they breastfed or formula fed, or if they had a natural, medicated or C-section birth?

I realized if I was judging others, they might be judging me as well. So I tried to be the perfect mom, which meant I had to live up to other people’s expectations.  The only thing I gained from that was guilt. I felt guilty when I couldn’t keep my house clean, but my friend with two children had a spotless house. I agonized over the decision to use disposable diapers at night because the cloth diapers smelled like the elephant’s cage at the zoo. The moms on the online cloth diapering forum made it clear that it was cloth or nothing else. I questioned everything I did as a parent, wondering if I was doing it right.

When Milo was born, I used cloth diapers and breastfed him. I carried him in a baby carrier, made my own baby food, and used homeopathic remedies when he got sick. I also cut some corners. I started to use disposable diapers, formula, over-the-counter pain medication, a stroller, and store-bought baby food. I made it easier on myself, but I still felt the guilt.

Then I started attending a Postpartum Depression (PPD) Support Group, where the phrase “They’re not babies forever” is an encouragement and not a warning. I listened to other women’s stories, and came to understand that mommy guilt is abundant.

“It makes me feel horrible,” one mom said, “when I pass those WIC billboards that are plastered along the highway, promoting all the benefits of breastfeeding. I’m sorry I can’t breastfeed. I tried, I really tried, but I don’t have any milk supply.”

“It makes me feel guilty, too,” said another. “I don’t want to breastfeed. It’s never been something I’ve wanted to do, but I feel like I get pressure from everyone.”

Another chimed in. “I had the opposite problem. My grandmother told me I was going to kill my baby because I breastfed her. She thought she should only have formula.”

Mommy guilt is not a new phenomenon. My mother told me she experienced it when I was three years old. I was the youngest of four, and she had to put me in daycare when she started working. She says being a working mother was the thing to do back in the seventies, but she still questions whether she made the right decision.

Though I remember the daycare facility – with fondness – I am clueless about most of the decisions she made as a mom. I would have no idea if she breastfed me, save for the fact that she told me she did. I don’t know if she let me cry it out or co-slept. I don’t know if she used cloth or disposable diapers. And none of it matters, except for the fact that she did what she thought was right for her and not for anyone else. And the only thing that matters to me, and the one thing I do know, is that she loved me.

Isn’t that how it should be? Shouldn’t we hold our judgment and let parents be parents without guilt or shame? Keep your house spotless or let the laundry and dishes pile up. Go to work or stay at home. Breastfeed or formula feed or do both. Be a helicopter mom, be a soccer mom, be a slacker mom (and if you don’t know what those labels mean, maybe you’re better off). Be the mom that you are, and be confident in that. In other words, do what works best for you and your family, and know that others are going to do it differently than you. No one is perfect, and everyone has different ideas about what it means to be perfect anyway.

This past week at PPD Support Group our facilitator asked us to tell the group how PPD has changed us. I told the group that I’m learning to be confident in who I am as a mother. I’m not afraid to be honest about having PPD. I’m not afraid to wear my pajamas all day. I’m not afraid to feed my child organic homemade rice and lentil cereal one day and Cheetos the next. I’m not afraid to let other moms raise their children the way they choose.

I’m not the mom I imagined I would be.  I may not be the mom others expect me to be.

But I love my children. And if I love my children, that is all that matters.

I’m done with the mommy guilt.

How about you?

Have you experienced mommy guilt?  The very wise women in my writing group tell me it never goes away, but one can hope, right?  What do you think?

You may have noticed I had a bit of “link fun” with this post.  Tell me what you think – was it a distraction or did it make the post more interesting?

As always, I love to hear your comments!