I remember the first time I felt it. It was on Friday, May 9th, 2008, at 11:37 p.m. I was 32 weeks pregnant, and we were in a bar in Chicago watching our friend's awesome band play their set. During one of their songs, there was a pause and then a loud re-entry into the chorus. At that moment, Will jumped inside me, startled by the loud noise, and a strong emotion washed over me.
Guilt.
To be more specific, Mother's Guilt. From that moment on, it has only gotten more overwhelming. With every passing day there isn't a second that goes by where I'm not wondering if I'm doing what's best for my son. The choices that lie before me range from the mundane - what kind of socks do I buy? - to the pressing - what is the best way to console my child? Very rarely does a decision or question come along that I don't agonize over, no matter how trivial. My choices are deliberate, pointed, well-researched, and educated. I'm not saying I know everything about every choice I make, but I make every attempt to.
However, it's amazing how many well-meaning groups and individuals assume that if a new mother is not doing what they suggest, the mother is not only wrong, but she has clearly neglected to think that decision through and is, therefore, neglecting her child.
(This is not to say that I don't appreciate advice - I really have been enjoying hearing stories and advice from people and mothers. Some of those anecdotes are all that get me through a crying fit. It's the judgment that just kills me!)
I am going to stand up for all those guilt-ridden moms out there and say to all those well-meaning people -
1. We have thought through our decisions.
2. We love our child more than you do.
3. Our guilt is crippling at times. We don't need your help making it worse.
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4. Tell me this kid isn't happy and healthy. I dare you.
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