Right and Wrong

A few days ago, a client of mine, who has a 4 month old, was working with me and telling me all about how little sleep she'd been getting lately.

She was exhausted because she'd been up all night sleep-training her baby. She was letting him cry it out.

And cry it out he did. For hours and hours and hours.

But after three days, she said it was getting better. She excitedly told me, "Last night, he only cried for ten minutes and then was asleep for the rest of the night! What a great idea, right?"

I nodded, smiled, and quickly changed the subject.

And, yet, I was unsettled.

After all, I'd lied to her. I'd acquiesced and agreed with a parenting technique I not only don't use, but wholeheartedly feel is wrong.

Yes, I'll admit it: I think sleep-training infants and letting babies cry it out to get them to sleep through the night is out-and-out wrong.

So why did I agree with that mama? Why did I not speak up? Why, when I'm often asked about certain parenting techniques I totally don't agree with, do I not vocalize how I feel?

Social mores, probably. But more likely, it's the insecure woman inside me who doesn't want to say something that will truly make her unpopular.

But today, I'm putting that on the back shelf.

Today, I'm going to make myself, most likely, quite unpopular.

Today, I'm going to talk about right and wrong.

***

Make no mistake about it; I make the decisions I make for my family and my daughter because I believe they are right.

I breast-feed because I have the ability to, and I truly believe that, if you have the biological ability to breast-feed your child, you should.

It's the right thing to do.

I was able to give birth without the aid of pitocin and an epidural. It wasn't because I thought I was tough. And it wasn't because I thought I had something to prove.

I did it because I think it's the right thing to do; I think that's the right way to give birth.

So, if I believe all that, if I believe those are the right things to do, inherently, I also believe other options are wrong.

Formula-feeding, for one. (For the sake of convenience. Not necessity. There are reasons for formula.)

Or unnecessary interventions in labor and birth. (Again, I use the word "unnecessary" because there are - extremely rare - instances in which inductions and C-sections are medically necessary.)

So there. I said it. I believe the way some women give birth and feed their babies is wrong.

You can commence with the throwing of tomatoes now.

I almost don't blame you. After all, even though I believe it, I don't like how it makes me look.

Immediately, I can feel the bile rise in my throat. The insecurity and fear edge in when I type the word "wrong."

Because I know it sounds intolerant. And I know it inspires everyone who, say, elected for pain-killers in labor and delivery* to hate me a little bit.

With the sentences above, I immediately sound like the worst kind of mother. I sound like a mom who judges other mothers, who looks down on them for making a choice different than mine.

But hold the phone and back up.

That's actually not what I'm saying.

After all, my child is only 6 months old, and I have made several wrong choices already.

We are human; we err. We are, inherently, wrong at times.

Heck, today, I can count at least four things I've done wrong. And it's not even noon yet.

Plus, let's be honest here. I know there are plenty of you out there who think that I'm often wrong.

In fact, some of you who know I do things like, say, co-sleep with my child probably think I'm wrong. Those of you who have sleep-trained your child, and feel good about that decision, probably think that, without a doubt, I am incorrect in how I handle my child at night-time.

I realize that. I do. And, honestly, I'm OK with it. I don't hate you for thinking I'm wrong, and I'm just as likely to want to pal around with you as I would with another mama who co-sleeps just like me.

You don't have to parent like me to be my friend.

Mostly because I didn't enter this parenting gig to be right all the time.

And neither did any of you.

***

Take, for instance, one of my amazing blogger friends Jenny. She had a baby boy right around the time that I had Ella.

Jenny, simply put, rocks. She's a nurse. She's an amazing mother and wife. She's a great girl and kind and sweet and, frankly, if I'm half the woman Jenny is, I'll be thrilled.

Like me, she wears her boy in a baby carrier often and breast-feeds.

She also vaccinates her son.

I, as I've said before, have Ella on a (very) delayed and selective vaccination schedule.

I've read books, articles, health journals, interviews with prominent pediatricians, and untold amounts of research on the subject. And still, I do not agree with the standard vaccination schedule we place on our children today.

I do, indeed, think it is wrong.

Jenny disagrees with me. She's also read books, articles, health journals, interviews with prominent pediatricians, and untold amounts of research on the subject.

She does, indeed, think it is right.

I think she's wrong. She thinks I'm wrong. We both, in essence, think we're the right ones; we're making the right choice for our child.

And, yet, we get along. We're even friends.

How? Why? Is it possible to be close to another mom who has vocally said, "I disagree with you. I think you're wrong." (And yes, we have said that to one another. We have the respectful comments on each other's blogs to prove it.)

So, yes, it is. It is very possible.

Here's the thing: Vaccinating or not vaccinating your child does not make you evil. It doesn't make you a bad parent. It doesn't doom you to an eternity burning in hell.

Vaccinating your child does not dictate your status as a good human being.

There are amazing mothers who formula feed their children, let them cry-it-out, and vaccinate them according to the government's recommended schedule.

They are good people. They are great parents. I like them. Heck, some of them I love.

And, yet, I think they are wrong.

They, in turn, think I'm wrong.

But many think I'm a pretty good person, too. Many are my closest friends, even.

Why?

It's because our moral status is not governed by how we give birth or what we feed our children. Our ability to get into the figurative (or literal) gates of heaven does not come down to whether or not we started our child on a diet of all-organic solids at 9 months or jarred baby-food at 4 months. Our efforts to gain respect and love and companionship from our peers should not fall on the shoulders of the question, "Do you vaccinate your child?"

Yes, I think vaccinating a 2 month old is wrong.

But I don't think it's evil, and I don't think it makes for a bad parent.

I just think it's wrong.

And, yet, I receive flak for that. As do others who speak up for whatever they think is right.

In our permissive culture, it's simply not cool to be that black and white.

To say, "No, I don't believe in that."

To stand up and say, "I won't do that. It's not right."

To call something "wrong."

In a culture where everyone wins, we've forgotten what it's like to make a true, hard, fast decision. We've forgotten what it's like to choose, for ourselves, what's right and stand up for that choice.

And, yet, we do it every day.

Every mother out there makes a decision based on what they think is right.

I do. You do.

We're parents; that's what we do.

We do our research, weigh the pros and cons, and make a choice. A choice we think is right.

It may not be what our neighbors think is right. It may not be what our church thinks is right. It may not be what our doctor, lawyer, or best friend thinks is right.

But we do; we think it's right.

And we think the other options - the things we don't do and won't do - are wrong.

That's life. We cannot live in the gray forever. We cannot waft about saying everything is OK.

If everything was truly OK, we'd never make a decision. About anything, let along our children.

I, for one, don't want to live in the gray. I have made, and will continue to make, decisions I think are right for my child.

I won't apologize for them. I don't owe anyone an apology for making informed choices in what I think is the best interest of my child.

And, in turn, I don't expect a mother who chooses different from me to apologize for that, either.

I respect that mother; I can have play-dates and cookie swaps and hour-long phone conversations with that mother.

I can live next door to her and call her my best friend, even.

She can be wrong; I can be right. She can be right, and I can be wrong.

After all, disagreement is not the same thing as judgment.

Even with right and wrong, we can all still have companionship, dialogue, kid-centered-ness, and support.

That is, after all, motherhood.

Whether we agree with each other or not.

***

Go ahead. You know you want to. Tell me, what do you think is right? Or better yet, what do you think is wrong?

I promise, I won't judge you for it. Even if you out-and-out disagree with me. In fact, I'll probably love you a little more because of it.

***

I'm going conclude this little impromptu series on motherhood tomorrow. Check out Posts #1 and #2 if you missed them.

***

Happy Wednesday, everyone!