Tag Archives: mommy wars

I am an inferior woman! Hear me roar!

Ugh. Why? Why do stupid people have to keep saying stupid crap, making me dust off my soapbox YET AGAIN?

Now I have to go looking for it YET AGAIN and …(grunting sounds)… it’s probably buried under a huge pile of dirty onesies and empty wine bottles and …(rummaging noises)… I could be using this time to do something much more productive …(floor scooting squeaks)… like drinking wine while doing laundry.

…(out of breath wheezes)… All right, let me just dust this bad boy off and step up …(more grunting sounds)…

I don’t know if you’ve seen it yet, but there is a meme making its way across the Internet that brings a whole new level to the term “Mommy Wars.” Allegedly created by some religious group, it essentially tells women who have given birth via cesarean section that they are weak and didn’t “actually” give birth and that they should bow down to the superior women who did have vaginal births.

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And angry female rant in 3…2…1…

Only in a country that so devalues its women can the idea that having a baby via major abdominal surgery be considered lazy. Can the idea that being sliced open and having a nine pound baby plucked from your womb before your organs are returned to their rightful place and you’re literally sewn back together be considered the easy way out. Just look at that inconsiderate lady, lying on her back, letting her doctor do all the hard work of ripping her body apart and plunging his hands deep inside her farthest recesses while she is fully awake.

Chicks, man. Am I right?

I feel this should go without saying but obviously it doesn’t, so, here it goes. There is no easy way out of giving birth. There are only two choices and they both suck. Because you either have your baby’s head ripping an exit through your vagina or you have a scalpel ripping an exit through your lower stomach. Both involve a lot of pain, a lot of fear, a lot of blood and a whole lot of strength.

And sure, I can understand on some level how a woman who had a natural, drug-free birth might want an extra pat on the back. And I’m more than happy to tip my hat to her. Cause that is some Wonder Woman-level of strong right there. Especially when you can, such as in my case, holler for a nurse at 3 a.m., grab her by the lapels and gently but firmly yell directly into her face “GIVE ME THE DRUGS!” and ten minutes later some guy is shoving a very large needle through your spine.

However, all of us moms went through the same war. And none of us are less of a hero for how we fought in that war.

And while I’m hoping that the person or people behind this ridiculous meme are on the far, far, FAR fringes of society, it can’t be denied that we as a country have an unhealthy attitude toward reproduction and all the baby-havin’ in general. Hell, take the actual reproductive cycle itself. We treat periods like they are the most shameful thing a woman can admit to.

Is that a tampon I just saw fall out of your purse!? A blood stain on your pants?! A commercial for feminine products!? On the TV where anyone can see it!?

AVERT YOUR EYES, CHILDREN (even though none of you would exist without the presence of a monthly period)! BURN THE BLEEDING WITCH! OR AT LEAST MOCK HER MERCILESSLY!

And then there’s our whole “I guess you can have an entire six weeks off to heal your traumatized post-pregnancy body while also keeping your tiny infant alive but we sure as hell ain’t gonna pay you for it, ya bum” attitude.

We belittle stay-at-home moms and yet in the same breath say working moms are selfish. We insist that true moms breastfeed their children but oh dear god, woman, not where I can see it. Gross. We want to know why you haven’t lost the baby weight yet but also why are you at the gym and not at home spending time with your baby?

Moms truly are damned if they do and damned if they don’t. But this particular meme is perhaps the cruelest way we’ve thought up to punish moms yet.

Babies are born every day. But to the woman giving birth, it’s a miraculous, painful, beautiful and utterly terrifying experience. And no should have the right to take that away from her.

No matter how the baby finally gets into her arms.

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Give it a breast already

In case you guys haven’t heard yet, I’m pretty much the best person on the planet.

It’s true. I mean, sure, Pope Francis had some good moments this year. But when it comes down to it, no one can compare to my pure and humble unselfishness. My pure, unadulterated courage. My pure and utter lack of pride in how completely amazing I am.

In fact, I’m so amazing, I feel bad for everyone else. No matter what anyone ever does from here on out, they’ll never compare to me.

So just what have I done to deserve the title of Best Person Ever, you ask?

Well, I…(cue dramatic church organ music)…am planning on breastfeeding.

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OK, OK, perhaps breastfeeding alone doesn’t necessarily make me the Best Person Ever (pretty sure I’m still in the Top 5 though). But judging from how people react when they find out I’m planning on breastfeeding once I pop this kid out, it does automatically put me in the category of Better Person Than You.

Yes, apparently any woman who breastfeeds in this day and age deserves her own parade, carried through the streets on a litter by the lowly parents who decided to feed their children formula.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard the following:

“Good for you! You’re going to be such a good mom!”

“Breastfeeding is tough. You’re so brave for making this decision.”

“You’re obviously the superior parent. Will you raise my children?”

And that’s all from just planning on breastfeeding.

But here’s the thing. I don’t deserve all these accolades. One, because even though I want to breastfeed, it doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll be able to or that I can hack it as a breastfeeder. Many women stronger and tougher than I have tried and failed.

Two, here are the reasons I decided to breastfeed, in order of importance:

1. Cheaper than formula.

2. Will help me lose weight.

3. Good for the baby or some junk.

And three, while breast may be best, our society has gotten out of control with the Judgy McJudgerson act regarding those who decide to bottle feed.

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Seriously, I’ve heard people compare using formula to child abuse. I have friends with babies who have had to sit through lectures from strangers about how selfish it is that they aren’t breastfeeding. And God help you if you can’t breastfeed for medical reasons but then don’t spend your life savings to buy breastmilk from some hippie mom you found on the Internet.

Sadly, as I’m quickly learning, the breastfeeding debate is just the front line in the bigger conflict known as the Mommy Wars, where every parent feels they know not only what is best for their child but what is also best for your child.

And I’m about to enter the fray woefully unarmed.

But, truth be told, I’m kind of glad I’m unarmed. Because I’d rather just assume you’re doing what you think is best for your child and I’m doing what I think is best for my child. And regardless of what we are actually doing, chances are still high that neither one of them will turn out to be a serial killer.

And if we’re REALLY lucky, neither of them grow up to be that know-it-all co-worker who interrupts every conversation with “well actually” either.