When I was pregnant, I was touched by the way people took extra good care of me. I recognized a beautiful universal humanity in it, an almost innate drive to care for the young and vulnerable future, our children. A year into motherhood, I am less romantic about this desire in others to protect my child. They say the personal is political, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt that as much as I do in parenting. Opinions are heated when it comes to how to properly raise kids, and much as we all know that it’s not really our place, we can’t help letting our opinions leak out. I do it. My friends do it. Grandparents aunts and uncles do it. Strangers on the street do it.
Just over a month ago, we were travelling to visit Sean’s family and a woman pulled up beside us at a stoplight. “Excuse me” she said, so I turned with a smile, thinking she wanted to ask directions.
“Your car seat is facing the wrong way, your baby needs to face the front.”
Politely, I began to explain, “No, he’s not a year old yet, they have to….” Be rear facing until the baby is 1 year old and over 20 lbs. But she had cut me off.
“Yes, it’s wrong. If I had rear-ended you, he would have gone through the window. You need to turn him around!”
“No, it’s regulation—“
“It’s dangerous. I’ve got your license plate number and I will be calling Child Protective Services on you.” Her face was a mask or anger and disgust.
Stunned, I hesitated and at that moment the light changed and we all moved forward.
“What?? Pull over!” I said to my husband. We waved her over too, but she went on. Her work was done. I got out the manual, which I keep with the car seat in the car, and read it over. I knew I was doing nothing wrong—I had just transferred the car seat into the truck a half-hour before, carefully checking the manual and all connections. I knew basic physics said he was safer rear-facing. But I needed to make sure anyway. Her threat, combined with her self-righteous fury, had shaken me.
A few minutes later it was easy to laugh about how that child protection call would be handled. We realized we had just had a run in with someone who was clearly coming from a passionately and wrongly held belief, and maybe a dose of heavy stressors in her life.
But the other day, I had an even more unsettling experience. A colleague and acquaintance wrote to me on Facebook. She had a “concern” because she had noted that in my status updates, I sometimes mentioned drinking alcohol, and some other times mentioned nursing. Her understanding was that alcohol was passed on through nursing. She wondered if I had different information, and asked my forgiveness if I did.
Just as when the woman in the car yelled at me, I felt the same moment of freeze, taken aback, rendered speechless. I knew I had researched breastfeeding and drinking alcohol and discussed it with my Doctor. I had determined that I could enjoy the occasional drink without any detrimental effects on my baby. But this was a person who I thought knew my responsible character. She was a person I admired in many ways, had confided in at times, and found warm and loving. She must have a serious concern if she was feeling the need to write this awkward e-mail, after we had only crossed paths twice in the last 2 years. Having this question come from her threw me into another moment of questioning myself, and my own knowledge.
It’s hard not to get defensive when someone calls our parenting into question. We all want to protect children and help them thrive, and especially our own. But the opinions on what is essential to that undertaking, or detrimental to it, can vary greatly. Parenting is forcing me to discover, bit by bit, what those essentials are for me and my child. This happens within a complex world of marriage, extended family, and socio-cultural-economic-spiritual-physical history, (if you’ll accept that as a word)and expert opinion. It’s an often confusing process, and fraught with uncertainty and contradictory advice.
My husband and I have made a number of parenting choices that are controversial in our culture—home birth, extended breastfeeding, co-sleeping, not letting him cry-it-out. We did a lot of research and trusted our instincts and judgement, and these things felt right for us with this child, at this time. Family and friends have done everything from raise their eyebrows to blatantly tell me I was stupid and putting my child at risk. Nonetheless, most remain supportive and quiet because they know that we are responsible, loving, and conscientious parents and our baby is thriving.
It’s a reality of parenting that it changes many of the relationships in our life, some for better, some for worse. A lot of the worse comes from discovering ideological differences with someone that we didn’t see before. And those differences are so personal, and so political, that it is hard to even discuss them sometimes, so friendships drift apart.
Of course, my acquaintance did acknowledge that she might not have all the information. She probably framed her “concern” as well as anyone possibly could…and I did send her some links and explain a little. But I was still hurt that she put together the information that I drank occasionally and that I nursed with an assumption that I may be careless with my child’s welfare.
So maybe the rest of my response, in which I urged her to remember that people can make choices different from hers and still be excellent parents, was a bit more defensive than necessary. Maybe it came from all the pent up feeling from all the other times I have felt judged, and for mothers all over who are questioned and question themselves constantly, even as they work harder than they have ever worked before to be good people and parents. Maybe I don’t take criticism that well. Well, OK, I know I don’t take criticism that well.
Still, I’m wondering where the line is between protecting children and honoring parent’s rights to make their own choices for their families, even if we don’t think they are great choices. I’m wondering when we should to speak up about what we see, at the risk of alienating each other. And when should we just stay silent, and trust that our friends are doing the best they can within their own context? I know I judge people too, and I hope I keep my opinions in check unless I feel afraid that a child will be harmed. Or at least, I hope I can approach people in a way that increases understanding on both sides.
I’m sad that a person I used to be happy to see may now be a person I feel awkward to see. I hope that as I grow in parenting, I can learn to negotiate these situations with grace and an open mind, less defensiveness, and more trust in myself. I’d love to hear your experiences with this type of thing, and how you handle them.
