Mommy guilt. I've never been so consumed with anything like it in my life. Ever since Nurse Mara placed a rather red-faced little boy in my arms, I've second guessed everything I've done. It doesn't help that some "well-meaning" people have all the answers. Shame on me, I used to be one of those people. (Yes, I tried to apologize to all of the mothers I gave my advice to now that I've had a HUGE helping of humble pie!)
Mommy guilt is simply the guilt that comes when I can't do everything perfectly. Normally, I couldn't care less about perfection. Now that I have him, I'm frustrated with my lack of awesomeness. (A term coined by Uncle Ty.)
*Do I vaccinate him? What about the autism-vaccination link? Am I putting toxins in my baby's body? If I don't, am I putting him at risk for a life-threatening illness? If I keep him in the house for 2 years, will that keep him safe?
*Can I supplement him with formula if my milk supply is waning? Am I putting even more toxins in my baby's body? What if the Enfamil company is just a big conspiracy to hurt our babies?
*Can I leave him with a sitter for some time off? What if he thinks I abandoned him? What if he's scared and I'm off shopping?? Oh, the shame!
*What if I feed him something that isn't organic? Will he grow another arm?
You get my point. I've always had a flair for the dramatic, but those thoughts have actually invaded my peace way too often. I need grace. I need to know that God is big enough to cover me and the mistakes that are inevitable. Grace is a necessity for the girl that made a "C" in prayer when attending Bible college. (No, I'm not making that up.)
So, good-bye mommy guilt. I want freedom instead.