What She Said…and a Little More
I love when I read someone else’s blog post and think Yup, like last week when I found myself reading a post on my phone (which I rarely do because I’m old, and well, it’s a phone and I’m practically already blind). If I’m reading a blog post on a phone, it’s a good one.
The title caught my eye: “I didn’t breastfeed my baby, and here’s why….” Catchy, isn’t it? I do appreciate a good title and this one sucked me right in. No pun intended. You know what else caught my eye? The blog’s title: 6:30 and a Glass of Wine. I liked this mommy immediately.
Anyway, go on and read the post now.
Okay, fine. If you don’t feel like reading it now, bookmark it. Read it later.
You’ll read about Heather’s story of why she ultimately decided not to continue nursing her son. I can relate to much of it. Heather’s post shares her story and the comments following her post offer support and encouragement. But I’m sure many will also read her story and think Yeah, but… as in Yeah, but it may have gotten better or Yeah, but everyone struggles some or Yeah, but you should have/could have/whatever have.
Here’s the thing. Please stop. Another woman’s life and another mom’s experience is not yours. Heather doesn’t deal with this in her post; that wasn’t her point. Her post, however, inspired me.
First of all, I’m not going to write a post about how moms shouldn’t judge. Telling a human being not to judge — to evaluate a situation and form an opinion — is ludicrous. We are human. We think. We have opinions. We judge. It’s what we do.
We just don’t have to be asses about it. We don’t have to be self-righteous. This comes up a lot in mommy circles, particularly among bloggers, so much so that fellow blogger, Elizabeth, created The Mom Pledge, which has raised awareness about cyber bullying among moms and worked toward “fostering respect, understanding, and acceptance.” Right on, sista!
There’s this part of me that even shudders a little to be writing a post like this. Because truth be told, this whole business seems so connected to class. Honestly, I think if I was living in poverty, I’d probably care even less than I do now about what other people were doing. Nursing, or seating their kids rear-facing in a car, or getting vaccinated, or whatever. Probably, even more than I do now, I’d be focused on doing what I need to do. Even just having this conversation connotes a level of privilege.
So yeah. Let’s just agree to stop.