Coincidentally, I was stuck under a nursing baby (who seems to be going through some sort of 3-week growth spurt), when I found myself clicking links until I wound up at this article by Judith Warner about how she hopes that one day breastpumps will cease to exist.

Such a declaration is just silly, no matter how sound and logical Warner may have duped herself into thinking her reasoning is. For one thing, it’s not just working moms who want or need access to pumps. What about moms of sick or premature babies who want desperately to feed them human milk (and aren’t worried that their nipples might be flattened or that their husbands might be repulsed by them forever because they pump–huh?)

I can tell you right now, if I hadn’t had access to that awesome hospital pump when Clara was in the hospital, we’d have gotten off to a mighty rough start with nursing…if it had happened at all. I’m very grateful that the option was available to me, “degrading” as it may be. (For the record, I think pumping is kind of funny looking, and it’s definitely not my favorite activity, but I don’t feel at all like I’ve given up my dignity for having done it).

Why did I care? Because beside the fact that breastfeeding fits more easily into my life than formula-feeding ever could, I do believe the abundant science indicating that breastmilk (no matter how it’s delivered) is better than man-made formula is for babies, and that breastfeeding is good for mothers as well. It’s one thing that comes relatively easily to me that I can do for my children and myself. There are plenty of other places where I miss the mark. Breastfeeding doesn’t make me a better mother than any other. It’s just. one. thing.

I can accept that Warner’s declaration that we should “ban the breastpump” was likely hyperbole, said to incite thought and get people paying attention to her larger point: that the drive to feel babies breastmilk is overly-ambitious for today’s reality of family life, and that the pump is causing more harm than good via the guilt, judgment and pressure it facilitates.

Sorry, Warner. I just don’t buy it.

Cecily linked to an excellent analysis of the article, which I couldn’t even begin to rival at the moment. But I did want to point out my favorite comment to Warner’s article:

“Mothers try this. Grow up. People will always judge you for you parenting style. You’re too indulgent. You’re too harsh. If a mother doesn’t want to breastfeed, then don’t. If a mother wants to breastfeed do. There are plenty of things that you’ll do along the way that will mess us your kids much more than giving your baby a bottle. But don’t write articles based on whimsey rather than science in major media outlets.”

AMEN. Mothers, grow up, indeed. Here’s the thing: we’re all going to experience judgment, or perhaps just our perception of judgment, from time to time. The pressure any of us might feel to breastfeed is one small piece of the whole pie, which also includes pressure to provide kids with cute (expensive) clothing, a certain level of material wealth, organic food, focused quality time, enriching activities, top-notch schooling, and a fully-funded college savings plan. Really, when you look at the whole picture, breastfeeding is a small and relatively easy thing to pull off no matter what your economic or social reality.

But we moms sure do like to hyper-focus on breastfeeding and our perceived experience of being judged for not doing it/doing it/not doing it right/not doing it long enough/doing it too long, probably because it’s so black-or-white: you either are, or you aren’t. You either did it, or you didn’t. Whereas the more subjective of today’s “good parenting” deeds, like “amount of time spent introducing child to classical music” or “number of high-quality culinary experiences child experiences by age 5″ are a lot harder to quantify.

But make no mistake, the pressure is there for all those things too…and guess what? It’s coming right from us, the moms. We judge ourselves for no doing the things we perceive as important and then complain that others are judging us. I’m not saying the judgment doesn’t sometimes come from other mothers, as well. What I’m saying is, the more time we spent fixating on, thinking about, and complaining about the way others view our parenting, the more power we give their opinions. Really, who cares?

Can we all get over ourselves for five minutes, do the best we can with the information we have (real information, not science we cook up in order to make ourselves feel better about the shortcomings we’re judging ourselves for) and move on with our lives? I promise, we’d all be a lot happier if we did.

Confession time: I breastfeed my kids for an average of 2 years apiece, but I have yet to take most of them to a live musical performance (unless you count school concerts), I don’t spend enough time playing individually with each one, we eat too many refined carbohydrates and not enough vegetables, and I don’t feel any obligation to provide them with fully-funded college savings plans. I’m not about to try to change existing research to prove to you that any of those things wouldn’t be good for them: I’m sure they would. I’m just presenting myself as I really am: trying, but imperfect, and always falling short of some mystical parenting ideal. If anyone doesn’t like it, tough. Around here, I’m the mama.

And with that, I must get back to being a perfectly average mother, confused about why we make everything so much harder and more fraught with meaning than it really is or has to be.