My Baby, My Choice

If you are not familiar with the Charlie Gard case, I encourage you to look it up, but be prepared for a difficult read. In a nutshell, Charlie had a rare genetic disorder which causes brain and muscle damage and almost always ends in death in infancy. Charlie’s parents wanted to try an experimental treatment which had a small chance of saving his life, but his doctors disagreed, so they went to the UK government and got a court order to terminate life support against the parents’ wishes. After months of fighting, exhausting the window in which the experimental treatment could potentially be effective, Charlie’s parents gave up, and Charlie was killed. I’m not going to go into any more detail; I find it too painful, but I’ll send you to my husband’s raw, emotional response to this tragedy.

Charlie Gard died when my baby boy was 6 days old. I read updates on the final days of his parents’ fight as I was recovering from labor and birth, nursing (painfully!) every two hours, and barely sleeping. I was full of postpartum hormones, love for my new baby, and grief for Charlie’s parents. I should not have been surprised, knowing what I do, that the state–that institution supposedly necessary for civilized society–could sentence a helpless baby to death against his parents’ wishes and despite the fact that the treatment offered would not deplete its coffers by one penny, but it was a hard reality to swallow, made all the more poignant by the surge of motherly instinct to never, ever, let such a fate befall my son.

This tragedy was made possible by well-meaning but misguided people who believe that other human beings are not capable of running their own lives; who believe that evil can be justified when it is for the “greater good.” I do not want my son to be one of those people. I do not want him to grow up in a world full of those people. I want him to live in a world where human beings interact with each other only in voluntary ways, and where no one respects those who claim that coercion or violence are ever okay. I want him to live in a world where everyone recoils in disgust at the idea that a small group of powerful people could ever override a parent’s decision to seek medical treatment for a sick child.

I don’t expect to see that world in my lifetime; I don’t expect that my son will either. I certainly can’t change the world on my own, but in the words of Albert Jay Nock, I can present the world with one improved unit, and I intend to raise my son to do the same.

A Mother is Born

I officially became a mother on July 22, 2017 at 8:50am, though as any woman who has experienced pregnancy will attest, I was mothering my unborn child long before that moment. In the instant that my doctor invited me and my husband to meet Miles John (and not Winter Helen, the name we’d chosen for a girl) we transformed from married couple to family; from individuals to parents. Suddenly our world revolved around the tiny–well, not too tiny, at eight pounds, four ounces–human entrusted to our care. Our own needs and desires would take a permanent backseat to the demands of the angelic little tyrant we had decided to bring into our lives.

Leaving the hospital with a new baby is a scary thing. One can be shown how to bathe, feed, change, and swaddle a newborn, told to expect periods of constant crying and given soothing strategies, and made to listen to seventeen different lectures on safe sleeping arrangements, and still feel utterly unprepared for the road ahead.

As it turns out, keeping the baby alive is not all that hard. But as my wrinkly newborn turns into a little boy with a personality all his own, I begin to think of the more challenging aspects of parenthood. How do I raise a son who is kind, compassionate, and fully grounded in good moral principles? How do I teach him about the dangers that exist in a world increasingly hostile to white males? How do I ensure that he respects the autonomy and agency of all human beings, and values voluntary interaction rather than coercion or violence? How do I instill in him a lifelong desire to keep learning and growing?

The Free Baby Project is the story of my journey into parenthood, and my successes, failures, and insights along the way. Join me for the ride! It is certain to be messy, frustrating, and heartbreakingly beautiful!