The Mommy Wars

In honor of Mother's Day and of all mothers everywhere, I think we should call a cease fire, permanently, to the Mommy Wars.

I have been a mother for almost 3 years. It has been some of the happiest times of my life and I love being able to be apart of the "Mommy Club" because you know there is one. There is a line in the sand dividing women who are not moms and ones who are. Pregnant women stand on that line in limbo. It's a hard transition, and sometimes it takes a big battle to get from one side to the other. Little do you know, once you get into the Mommy Club what battles you have yet to face.

These battles, (Medicated or Unmedicated labor, Vaginal or C-Section birth, Breastfed or Bottle fed, Co-sleeping or not, Cloth Diapering or Disposable Diapering, Circumcise or not, just to name a few) draw new lines in the sands, putting moms against one another, when really, aren't we supposed to be supportive and united in ways that you can't understand until you have become a mother? Aren't we supposed to help another mother when she's trying to juggle a baby, a diaper bag, and a stroller (or number of other things) because you know exactly what it's like to feel like you need an extra hand (or 3) in order to do the simplest of tasks? Aren't we supposed to give a mother a supportive and knowing smile of encouragement when their 2 year old is have a tantrum in the middle of a store because she *gasp* dared to tell him that he couldn't get a new toy that day? What happened to us? Instead of being bonded in sisterhood, we judge. We look at that mother juggling things and think "Oh, well, if she was just wearing the baby she wouldn't be having the problem" or to the toddler's mother "Oh, wow, she obviously doesn't know how to discipline in a gentle manner" or a myriad of other things and situations.

I am not innocent in this, I have judged. I strive every. single. day. to try to put myself in the other person's shoes. You don't know their background, you don't know their journey, you don't even know what happened that day to lead up to that very moment, yet we think it's okay to judge them?! What is wrong with us!?!?

I have also been the one judged. I had two very high risk pregnancies. I was medicated through out both of them, through a PICC line with Abby Kate (stories of my journey to bring them both into the world are in the works, I hope to have them ready in the next day or two). I had two medicated births (LOVE epidurals). I circumcised my son. I co-slept with both children, Asher from about 3 months until he was 14 months, Abby Kate from birth until 10 months. I cloth diapered both for a time, though they are both in disposables now. Guess what, I don't regret any of those decisions. I know I did what was best for me and my family. Even with knowing that and being confident in myself as a mother (most of the time...), do you have any idea what it feels like to be the person getting that look we so commonly throw out without even thinking? That "Holier than thou" look? It makes you feel like scum. Why do we do that to each other?

I write this to implore every mother to take a step back and look in the mirror.

Are you a perfect person? No.

Are you a perfect mother? No.

Are you always trying your best? Yes.

Is there anything more you can do than that? No.

I know that those are the answers for every mother. Remember that the next time you judge. Remember that the person behind the action you are seeing might be having the worst day of their life. Remember that you have had those days too. Remember that each of us has walked a different path and has made different decisions based on those journeys and respect that.

Let's end the Mommy Wars because we all know that Motherhood is already hard enough.

Happy Mother's Day!

Here's a couple of pictures of the two reasons that I am a mother.

I love you Asher and Abby Kate. In being your mom, I have found myself. You two have blessed me in ways I had only dreamed of and I thank the Lord above for each and every day I get to spend with two of His own angels.