I wish I could go back to a time where I had enough self esteem that I could remain blissfully unaffected by other women’s choices about anything birth or breastfeeding related.
I wish I didn’t feel that every new baby was an opportunity to dazzle its mother with the story of my homebirth.
I wish had enough self confidence that when a mom tells me the nurse said she was starving her baby by breastfeeding, I could support her instead of rolling my eyes and demeaning her.
I wish I didn’t feel the urge to ask every new mother whether or not she used pain medication during her birth.
I wish I didn’t cringe when a new mom tells me she’s seeing a cesarean-happy OB practice, imaging that every woman should want the exact same type of obstetrician that I want.
I wish I didn’t notice when moms prop bottles in a newborn baby’s carseat, since it is NONE OF MY BUSINESS.
I wish I had had accomplished more in my life so that I wouldn’t feel that pushing a baby out through my vagina was my greatest achievement.
I wish I didn’t feel guilt every time the word “circumcision” is mentioned, since that demonstrates that I give greater priority to first world problems than to real problems.
I wish I didn’t get distressed about formula samples, because if I were more compassionate I would realize that taking away formula samples has a disparate impact on poor women of color and the last thing I should be doing is adding to their burdens.
I wish I could find another way to boost my fragile self-esteem that didn’t involve my breasts, vagina or uterus.
I wish I didn’t hear a total stranger announce her pregnancy and immediately pray that she’s seen “The Business of Being Born,” since that demonstrates that I am a gullible fool who thinks she can become “educated” by listening to a washed up talk show host.
I wish I could care about the well being of other women and their babies instead of viewing them as opportunities to demonstrate my well honed sense of superiority.
But …
… then I wouldn’t be such a sanctimonious fool.
