Careful, the whites of your eyes are showing. (Warning: Rant)

With the toilet clogged up, our little family went to the nearby mall to take advantage of the comfort lounge. As I waited for the partner to do his thing, I found myself seated between a very pregnant lady and her partner. The following conversation occurred:

Pregnant lady: I like! Where'd you buy? That's "in" naman these days (referring to the ring sling)
Me: It's a gift from the states
Pregnant lady: Oh? How much?
Me: $$, but you can get ring slings from Rustan's
Pregnant lady: But you can make that man noh? Just buy fabric and rings?
Me: Yeah, you can probably get fabric better suited for tropical weather...
Pregnant lady: Yeah, look at him, he's so comfortable. Nakagawas lang iyang tiil, luoy kaayo. ("His feet are just dangling, how pitiful")
Me: He's too big to fit naman.
Pregnant lady: Let's get ring and fabric nalang na? (referring to her partner, then turns to me, who tried to sit down but couldn't because Laya started protesting) Mas sayon pa jud makabreastfeed noh? ("Easier for breastfeeding yes?")
Me: Oo, pero malingaw na gani siya sa sling, di na pabutang. ("Yeah, but once he starts liking the sling, he won't ever want to be put down")
Pregnant lady: Kay nakagawas man iyang tiil, mapilo man. Luoy kaayo. Nabaptize na na siya? ("Because you let his feet dangle like that, it's folded in. How pitiful. Is he baptized yet?")
Me: Dili...pa ("Not... yet")
Pregnant lady: Ha? Unya gilaag laag na ninyo? Asa man ang daddy? ("What? And you take him out like that? Where's the dad?")
Pregnant lady's hubby: (to wife) Ok ra na, uso naman na ron. ("It's okay, that's common these days")
Me: Naa diha sa sulod. ("He's inside")
Pregnant lady: Didto na na natawo or diri na? ("Did you have him there or here?")
Me: Uh, naghomebirth ko... ("I had a homebirth...")
Pregnant lady: Ha?! Wa ka nahadlok ug infection?! ("What?! Weren't you afraid of infection?!" turns to husband rolling eyes)


End of conversation. She looked like anything I was going to say was no longer of any interest. I was clearly not the kind of mother she wanted to become. I just busied myself with breastfeeding. Why do the witty comebacks come to mind AFTER encounters like these? Why wasn't Chris around when the encounter happened so that he could've stared the fat bitch down? Why wasn't I wearing my "Not asking your opinion stranger" shirt today? Oh right. Cause I don't have one. Remind me to have one printed ASAP.

Never mind that it would've been the perfect opportunity to educate the ignorant. Never mind the lectures on proper ring sling positioning, or statistics of bronchopneumonia killing babies in hospital nurseries, or how many noncatholics have died because they were taken out as babies (none). I'm a mom now. Being subject to public opinion is a given.

Never else in my life have I received as much open judgment and unsolicited advice. Not even in college, when I went to school looking like this:

sans the white mouse

From the househelp's husband, to the stranger on the street, everyone else seems to know what's best for my baby. One piece of advice contradicts another, and if you don't agree, they switch their noses up at you, nostrils flaring. Chances are, even their boogers are secretly judging you.

I've learned to filter. Most of them mean well, I suppose. Society assumes that children belong to the community. They don't become legitimate individuals until they at least hit puberty. Everything we do regarding children stems from this idea. There are so many things we consider human rights violations that we don't even give a second thought to when done with children. For example, some of Malaya's aunts don't think twice about poking him to wake him up so that he can entertain them with his discomfort. Boy do I hope you don't grow up thinking you need to perform for other people.

Because children are public property, child bearers become subject to public criticism at the same level of politicians. Specially by other mothers. It sure is annoying when the girl you barely talked to in high school suddenly becomes an authority on motherhood just cause she had one before you, and decides to chat you up in the middle of the night during a Malaya meltdown to lecture you on which vitamins to buy for your kid without you even asking.

If you're a mom and I tell you more than what you've asked for, you have every right to sock me on the head.

I set out to rant about how stupid people shouldn't be allowed to procreate or to make one feel as if their opinion matters (Because it does. Didn't Nancy Binay win?), but I realized I'm wasting breath. I was in aforementioned pregnant lady's shoes once, judging other mothers from the safety of my pregnancy. It's karma I think, that I'd be caught by my anti-thesis on a rough day - when we brought the baby out unbathed, with the diaper bag at home; daddy out of sight; mommy looking sleepless and a bit desperate.

But even on rough days, there's no changing who and what we are. I can't conform, even in the face of judgment. Because I flunk at it. Because I can't get myself to trust the authority figures that push the pregnant lady to get her "sterile" hospital birth and baptism. We parent the way we are as people, and to insult and question one another is the same as fascism.

No, I take the 'question' bit back. As long as you are willing to learn about other people's experiences, ask as many questions as you want. But please don't be a dick about it.

Meanwhile, I'm getting that shirt printed.