If there is anything the last twelve weeks have taught me, it is that parenting is hard. Sure, everyone said so, but I didn’t really have any idea what it meant until I did it. Breastfeeding hurt, and it wasn’t until week eight or so that the little one and I finally hit our stride there. Hours spent comforting a screaming baby with no apparent reason to be screaming caused even my inhumanly patient husband to throw up his hands in frustration. Worries over whether the baby is eating enough, pooping enough, exercising enough, hitting his age-appropriate milestones plagued my exhausted brain, cutting into my precious little time for sleep.
Everyone also said it is all worth it, and so far I have to agree. But there is no way that I would have made it this far without help. My husband, of course, has been wonderful, but I don’t mean just him. I have a church family that supplied me with almost everything a new mother could need, as well as much appreciated hints and tips and personal experiences. They’re also quick to jump in and hold the baby when he fusses while mama is in the middle of playing a hymn–in fact, they fight over the opportunity! We are a continent away from our families, but I know I can offer my son a community of people who love him and will shepherd him as he grows. I’m so grateful for all of their help and I fully recognize how much I need it.
What I don’t need, however, are government parasites telling me how to raise my child. I don’t need handouts designed to make me dependent, I don’t need government schools to indoctrinate my son into official allowable opinions, and I don’t need bureaucrats deciding what is best for me and my family. Until he is able to make decisions for himself, there is no one more qualified than myself and his father to choose what is in my son’s best interest.
So yes, it takes a village, but not the way they mean it. My son does not belong to society at large, and he does not exist so that he can serve the “greater good” by bowing to the ruling class. He is not a cog in a machine or cannon fodder for a politician’s ambition. Now I just need to figure out how to raise him to believe that as fervently as I do!
The Free Baby Project 