The Waged War (that you had no idea existed)

 Something happens to you when you have a baby. Actually, it may even happen to you when you're pregnant or first considering having a baby. But those pale in comparison to what happens when your baby comes. For those who don't have a kid yet, let me let you in on a little secret: There's a war being waged. It comes in the form of women-fighting, also known as coy, unassuming and almost inaudible bantering and boasting and advising. Wouldn't it be easier if we were men, and issues were settled over a fist-fight and a beer? Can I get an amen? ..moving on. Anyway, this war being waged is known as parenting style. I am calling it a war because from my experience, it's as split as politics. You're red or blue. It can be as vicious. And once you're a parent, there's no going AWOL on the issue; you're drafted to a side and (I'm assuming) you spend the rest of your life questioning your allegiance to the side which you've pledged.
Let me explain.
When I was about 30-weeks pregnant, I read someone jokingly comment on the Ferber method, saying, "People say it raises stress hormones in babies to let them cry it out. I say, it raises stress hormones in the parents if you don't!" And there was my first taste of the opinionated conflict in which I was about to join. My sister-in-law who is expecting told me that she plans on using the Montessori method in raising and teaching her children. To which I replied, "What's that?" (You're surprised, I know.) When I had a several week old baby whom I carried frequently in my Moby wrap, I was told that I was going to become an attachment parent. A what? (You can read more on attachment parenting here.) By me carrying my baby in a sling so I had hope of washing a dish or three before his waking, I was somehow ascribing myself to a parenting technique that I was completely blind to. So from then, I started researching. I scoured the internet and books and picked women's brains about parenting methods. I wanted to be very informed. I am a planner. A scheduler. An organizer. I like to have my next three steps planned out before I take them. Society was telling me that I needed to pick a side. I needed to follow a scheme, a method, a technique, a style. Loving my baby and doing what felt natural at the time was not enough.
I have been talking to my good friend and fellow new mom C about this regularly. We talk and decide  and solve all of the worlds problems over morning coffee. (All in a day's work, C.) I laughed when one day she rhetorically asked, "So what is attachment parenting, exactly? Loving your baby TOO much?" I guess, in lament terms. I have concluded that these techniques generally come from two schools of thought: 1, they are the baby, we are the parents. They will fit into our lives, not the other way around. My reply to this is: Good luck with that, may the force be with you. School of thought number 2, They are a baby, and that is fleeting. I will comfort and care for my baby in the way that they request, even if it's at my expense. My reply to this is: Also, good luck. You'll be very tired for a lot of months.
Perhaps we fall somewhere in the middle. Perhaps we don't know. Perhaps we change sides as often as we change our socks.
Moms: let me holla at you for a second. So maybe you're loyal to your side. You are a tried and true ______(fill in the blank), and that's the only way that parenting makes sense to you. That's great! But just because that's what works for you, doesn't mean it works for all. You were gifted with different traits than the next woman, and that will drastically shape the mother that you (and she) will become. Let us be encouraging, uplifting, and non-judging in the way someone else loves their babies. I speak to myself on this too. We need to embrace that love and teaching come in many forms.
In my short 7 months of being a mom, I've gathered this: I question my decisions constantly. I wonder daily if what I am doing now will in some way hinder his future. I think that it could have gone better had I done something differently. I envy other mothers who seem to have it all together. I am embarrassed at times when my baby acts a certain way and I know people are judging my parenting. I also have learned that for the most part, I am not alone in my second guessing and short comings.
There were a lot of months where I felt I should do something that felt unnatural to me as a mom because that was "the best way", or even worse, "the only way". There were a lot of months where I felt guilty for mothering in the way that came easily and organically. I'll fill you in on some personal confessions:
I nurse my son to sleep more often than not. Oops.
Sometimes I let him sleep in our bed. (and we like it)
Sometimes I leave him to cry if my hands are tied and I know he's ok.
Sometimes I just let him cry because I am frustrated and tired.
He won't take a bottle because I exclusively breast fed him this whole time. Which means I can't leave him for more than 3 hours.
He is impossible to console by anyone but me when he's tired.
To this I say I'm done being ashamed of the way I mother, because there's no right or wrong way. We were gifted our children to raise up in a way that only we can. We all will have different successes and failures, boundaries, talents. The only non-negotiable is to raise them up in love. I find that when I am weary and confused, the only place that makes sense is my Bible. I get myself elbow-deep in scripture and prayer, and come back to the realization that there's no hard and fast parenting rules, there's only themes that I can glean from my Heavenly Father. Grace. Mercy. Forgiveness. Structure. Love. Respect. Compassion.
I say as long as we keep coming back to those themes, I don't think it makes much difference if you're a Ferberizer, an attachment parent, a Montessouir (see what I did there?), or anything in between. I don't follow books and teachings and theorists. I follow the maternal instincts that God gave me. I follow the Word. I follow the experience and advice of women that I respect. I mess up or succeed, then I try again the next day.