The Mommy Wars Arrive on my Home Turff

If you're not familiar with the term "mommy wars", in a nutshell, its basically where mom's (and sometimes women with no children) will attack another mom for her parenting choices, usually done via blogs, social networking sites, things like that. I find this different from simply offering friendly advice, which the mom should be able to consider and either use, or disregard, to being a "my way or the highway" approach.

I've seen this on many of the blogs I read. I remember one woman posted a picture of her 2 kids playing, one a toddler and one about a year old. They were both just in diapers, which is a common thing around our house, so I didn't think anything of it, other than it was a cute picture of some cute kids. But as I skimmed the comments, there were several people who complained that it was degrading to the children, that it was inappropriate, that her children would hate their mother in the future because she had posted that photo on the internet. 

This really shocked me, and annoyed me. I mean, I'm the mom who let her daughter swim naked in a river in Zions National Park once. My daughter spends half her day in just a diaper. Were there people out there that really had a beef with this woman? 

Then last week, another blogger I follow posted a photo on instagram of one of her children on a bike, and the kid didn't have a helmet on. The bike was stationary, and the dad was clipping the baby into the carrier on the bike, so it may have been moments before a helmet was even placed on her head. But people began attacking her left and right for being careless and how a good mom would have been concerned about her daughter's safety. I felt so bad knowing that the woman would have to read through over 100 comments, the majority of which were attacking her.

Now, I've had my share of a few concerned moms (and non-moms) let me know what I'm doing wrong as a parent. Usually, it's while I'm at the store or something ("you know you're daughter isn't wearing shoes right?") and I've had a few people send me e-mails or texts to notify me of my short comings. Heck, I've even had anonymous messages left for me from people in my own ward complaining about the way I taught their kids in nursery before. 

Usually, I get a little mad, a little defensive, but I can come out of it with no emotional scrapes or bruises.

But these last couple of weeks have been rough. Like, really, really rough. I have had several people privately message me on facebook, berating me on everything from what I let Savannah eat: "I saw that you posted today that you let Savannah eat a cookie. Do you KNOW how bad sugar is for kids?! She is at high risk for becoming obese if you let her eat junk at such a young age!" 

To my decision to have a doctor-assisted hospital birth: "Doctors are crooks! You are not in their best interest. Plus your doctor is MALE which is perverted and gross! You should really do an at-home birth with a midwife, it's much safer..."

And then all hell broke loose Monday night.

I had the option to be induced this past Monday. I declined, because I wanted to give this baby until his due date to arrive at the very least. But I began feeling so drained. My body hurts. My ENTIRE body hurts. I can't take care of Savannah as well as I should be able to because I can't do anything. Just walking down the stairs to do laundry is torture. Poor Savannah hasn't been to the park in weeks because I'm just too exhausted and sore to chase her around. I can barely sit on the front porch and blow bubbles with her. It's not fair to her at all.  So I did a LOT of research, I talked to lots of people, I discussed it with my doctor, and came to the conclusion that I want to be induced this coming Monday, 2 days after his due date. I posted on Facebook how I was excited because that meant I would only have to be pregnant for one more week at the most. 

Initially, I got a lot of support on this. People e-mailed or texted me to tell me what good experiences they had being induced, how they were excited for me, things like that.

But the next morning, my in-box began flooding with people who were going to tell me exactly why I was being a terrible person for wanting to be induced. "It's unnatural" "you're forcing your body to do something it doesn't want to do" "your labor will take too long".

Thankfully, these people at least had the decency to attack me privately, rather than right on my facebook post for all to see, because it was kind of humiliating. I was really shocked. Most of these people weren't even people I knew that well. They were people who had friended me on facebook, who had known me vaguely in high school or something like that. And suddenly, I felt defeated. I tried to defend myself. I tried to let them know that I was not selfishly doing this. I was doing this for my well being, but also for my daughter, who needs me just as much as this baby does. But I got the same response from ALL of them: "I'm just giving you options, you obviously haven't thought this through..."

WHAAAA?

Do these people really think that I'd make such a big decision without researching ALL the facts first? I don't even go to a movie without finding out everything I can about it first. I just spent the last 3 days coveting a 12 dollar shirt online and trying to decide if it was something I really wanted to buy. 3 DAYS PEOPLE! (I ended up buying it, and it's super cute, just FYI...) so I definitely wasn't going to be induced without feeling well informed about it.

But I just couldn't convince these people that I was doing what I felt was best for me, my husband, and my kids. All day yesterday, I felt sad, and like I really was a terrible mom. I was second guessing myself. I was trying to decide if I should cancel my induction, just so that people would stop being so mean. I decided that I needed to go for a walk. Every evening, Bryant, Savannah and I all go for a walk as far as my body can handle. But I decided to go out on my own last night. I just wanted to put on my headphones and listen to "Wait Wait, Don't Tell Me". So I did. I didn't think about all the mean messages I had received. I just thought about how pretty the mountains were with low-hanging clouds surrounding them.

On the last street of my walk, it began to downpour. I had brought an umbrella, and I didn't mind it at all. But Bryant had been worried about me and had come to find me. He ran all the way up the street and accompanied me back down. When I got home, I told him I felt better, and he hugged me and told me that he felt I was making a good decision, and that whatever I chose to do, he would support me. Soon after, I had a few contractions, and I began to get excited. So I cleaned up the living room, put together the car seat, and did the dishes... just in case...

But unfortunately, they stopped altogether as soon as I went to bed. 

I woke up this morning at 4am. I was so frustrated. I had hoped that I would go into labor during the night. I wanted more than anything to be able to tell people I didn't have to be induced. Then they wouldn't think I was such a bad person. I couldn't go back to sleep so I got out of bed and in the shower bright and early. Just as Bryant was about to leave for work, he asked if I was ok, and out of nowhere I began crying. I had a total meltdown. I told him I was frustrated, that I was tired, that my body hurts, that I felt attacked and hated by people who only really know me through facebook. 

I asked for a blessing.

I asked him to bless me with comfort and patience and peace.

So he did, and it was beautiful.

I felt better. I felt calmer. Later, my visiting teacher came to visit. She is such an awesome person. She gave me a lesson that I really needed to hear, and we sat and chatted for a very long time. I told her about all the mean things people said to me, and she felt for me, and gave me encouragement. 

I still feel good about my decision. About all my parenting decisions. Yes, I'm a little scared. I don't want to be induced, I would rather have him come on his own this weekend. Or today, today would be nice. But if he isn't here by Sunday night, then I am ok and at peace with being induced. My mom was induced with all of her kids, and we all came just fine and dandy. I trust my doctors. I trust my instinct. And I trust that after lots of prayer and pleading, that this is the right thing to do. 

But I'd still really really like him to come today... you know, if he wants to.

And to all those mom's and non-moms who feel that their opinion is the only one that matters:

(Sorry, I just had to throw Uchtdorf in there. It was too perfect to pass up...)

That time I cried in the mother's room.

Today was a really hard day. 

I'm not exactly sure why, or what set it off. It just was one of "those days." I woke up this morning  feeling fine. I've been having these really crazy, but fun dreams the last few nights, and last night I dreamt that my parents reveled that they had A beautiful apartment they had lived in when I was born, and had continued to own it, even though none of us children knew about it, and my parents decided to give it to Bryant and I. 

I woke up hearing my little girl yelling for me, and even though I was a little sad that I had to leave that beautiful apartment with the amazing view, I was excited to give my baby hugs and kisses good morning. 

Bryant had stayed up late reading (I know because when I had to get up to stretch my legs at 1:30am, he was still reading...) So I let him sleep in. I changed Savannah's diaper, got her some peaches for breakfast, (even though she ate ALL my blueberries from MY plate) and then I hopped in the shower, got ready for church, then got her in the tub and ready.

For some reason, this is where I started to get cranky. I'm not sure why. Well, I can take a guess that It was just stupid pregnancy hormones... but I wasn't happy anymore. I suddenly felt stressed and upset. 

Anyways, Bryant then hopped in the shower, and we were all ready to go to church a couple of hours early (for once!) 

By the time we made it to church, I was suffering from a headache. Then I was angry because, once again, we chose to sit in the back on the hard chairs, which hurt my hips and my back really badly. I had been worried all morning because church begins at a new time for us now, and it's right when Savy's nap time is. The first half of Sacrament meeting, she did really well. She laid in Bryant's arms, then requested me. A few times I thought she had fallen asleep, but she hadn't. 

I was still feeling kind of ornery and mad. I decided that I needed to put those feelings aside, and just enjoy listening to people bearing their testimonies. The first few were wonderful. But as more and more people got up to speak, I began my old habit of comparing myself to everyone. While everyone talked about how wonderful their lives were, how great and well behaved their children were, how blessed they were because they live the gospel so perfectly, suddenly the thought "there's nothing like testimony meeting to make you feel so inadequate" crossed my mind. I don't even know where that came from! It just sprung up in my thoughts. I didn't mean it, of course, but that doesn't mean that I wasn't feeling pretty low. "But, my child can be so wild and crazy... but, I'm trying so hard to live the gospel but I never feel like I will be as good as sister-so-and-so..." I kept thinking to myself.

It was horrible.

I was choking back tears because I was angry with myself for not being someone who could get up there and say the same things those people were saying. I was placing these people on a pedestal, instead of just letting the spirit of peace and true testimony fill me up.

Then, something set Savannah off...

The little girl sitting a couple of chairs next to us, decided to sit sideways on her chair, putting her feet on the chair next to Savannah. For some mysterious reason, forever unknown to me, Savannah began to point her finger in the girls face and yell "NO! NO! NO!" and then tried to shove the girls feet off the chair. When I went to stop her, Savannah collapsed in my lap and sobbed hysterically.

I rushed her out into the hall, where she continued to sob uncontrollably. Of course the doors to the cultural hall were wide open, and I saw that half the population of the room was staring at us through the wide double doors. I bolted to the lobby. There were a group of women all standing in front of the mothers room. I was praying no one was in there and this wasn't the line to use it. Thankfully, the door was unlocked and the room was empty. 

I ran in, shut off the lights and tried to get Savannah to calm down, but she refused. Instead, she laid face down on the floor and cried even louder and harder. I KNEW everyone in that lobby, and possibly everyone trying to enjoy a peaceful fast and testimony meeting, could hear her.

This was my breaking point. I think on any other day, I could have handled this situation a whole lot better. But not today. I slumped in the nasty, stained and uncomfortable rocking chair and joined Savannah in her hysterical cries. 

After about 10  minutes, she finally stood up, and realized that the room had a sink in it. I allowed her to wash her hands multiple times (one of her favorite things to do) and then bribed her with candy that I told her was in my bag, still in the other room. She seemed happy enough.

However, as pregnancy nature calls, I had to run to the bathroom. 

When I stepped out of the room, we saw Bryant, who had come to wait for us in the hall. I handed Savy to him and told him I'd be right back. As soon as I began walking away, Savannah had yet another meltdown. This was when the other ward was just letting out for the day, and everyone was clustering in the halls and the lobby, once again, all staring at my crying toddler, and my puffy, red eyes.

Once I came back, we rushed off to go teach our class. Only to find that we had no class to teach. Most of our kids have gone on to primary, and the remaining ones were re-combined into the younger nursery. We were told we weren't being released, but that we could go sit in the back of primary sharing time instead (uh, yeah right, I'm not sitting in the back of primary if I'm not needed). I told the nursery leader that I'd rather go to class, and she said "well, I guess whatever you feel is best..." in a disapproving manner. She then said that we would have another class by the middle of the year. I told her I don't want to teach nursery by then, because I will have a newborn, and won't even be able to attend church for several weeks. She replied "well, we will just keep you listed as teachers, and we can discuss this again when it gets closer."

Once again, I was on the verge of tears. How many times do I have to tell them that I'm NOT bringing a newborn to a classroom full of children, where it's guaranteed that at least 2 of them are sick? "Alright, we will talk about it then" I said with a lump in my throat.

We then were debating if we should just go home, but Savannah ran into the nursery just as fast as her little legs could take her. We decided that as long as she was happy, to let her have some time with other kids. We then went to class, where of course, the only 2 chairs left were the hard ones that hurt my back, and they were shoved in the alcove where the window was.

I sat back there barely listening to the lesson. Instead, I was listening to the 3 women in the back gossip about so-and-so, and repeatedly complain that they couldn't hear the teacher (funny, I could hear her just fine. If they were hard of hearing, wouldn't they just move closer to the front?)

I took a few minutes to mull the day over. I was so upset and angry. I wasn't able to enjoy sacrament because my child was way over due for a nap, I felt like those in positions over me were not listening to me when I needed them too, and now I was angry that these women would rather spend the 3 hours of church saying really awful things about their neighbors, instead of learning about how to be a better one.

I was discouraged. I was done. 

When class let out, I asked Bryant if we could just go home.

I was so tired and emotionally worn out. 

On our way to pick Savannah up from class, Bryant pulled me into an empty room, closed the door and hugged me tight. I just cried and cried into his shoulder. 

After I couldn't cry anymore, I walked to the window and opened it. Letting the cold air wash over and freshen my face.

I felt a little better.

Once I cleaned myself up, we went to get Savannah. As soon as she saw us, she hurled the toy teapot she had in her hand at her teacher, reached up to me and asked for her "Baba" (bottle). 

It was definitely nap time. For her, and for me.

I came home, put her to bed, ate a sandwich, and then I went to bed.

By then, I felt so much better.

I don't know why I wrote about this. Maybe because I thought it would make me feel better to get my emotions out, but to be honest, I'm holding back tears once again. But I do feel much better.

Then again, maybe I wrote about this because I try really hard to make this blog positive, but sometimes, life just throws you one of "those days". And maybe someday, when I'm having another really bad day, I can look back at this and see how silly it was for me to have a really bad day for no reason, other than possibly some silly old pregnancy hormones. 

Next Sunday is going to be so much better, because I'm going to make sure Savannah gets an early nap, and I'll be sure to pack myself some snacks, just in case I get grouchy from hunger, and because I'm going to sit in the nice chairs for once!