Expecting the best

I was lying on the floor in front of the crib I had bought for my daughter, not yet knowing that it would rarely be used. In the months to come, my baby girl would sleep in my arms, on the cozy armchair I had found secondhand, or in my bed. And I would keep those facts from everyone—afraid of being judged.

Lying on my side on the ground, my belly stretched out before me like the child was already there, an extension of myself, I gazed at the box of EcoPea diapers I had just received. My husband had brought it up for me, his expression—I thought— disapproving. Was he judging this purchase? Or was it me, projecting my own doubts, letting guilt creep in? Perhaps it was my own conscience reproaching me for these purchases we clearly couldn’t afford.

I shook my head, trying to dispel the heavy thoughts clouding my mind.

These are necessities, I told myself. And I will make no concessions when it comes to my children. I only want the best for them: clothes in viscose, linen, or cotton, lotions certified by the EWG, fluoride-free toothpaste…

Just last week, I had a rather tense conversation with my mother-in-law. She tried to convince me that North American formula was a healthy choice.

“You should try reading the ingredients sometimes,” I told her sarcastically, trying to keep calm.

She looked at me, confused, her hands resting on the kitchen counter under the soft afternoon light. Avoiding her eyes—afraid she might see the anger behind mine—I opened the box my husband had left in the middle of the kitchen, and pulled out, one by one, the containers of Hipp UK formula.

“That must have been expensive,” she muttered, her lips tight.

“No more than what’s sold here. And I’m not going to sacrifice my children’s health just to save a few dollars,” I replied, my voice sharp.

In my eyes, it was up to my husband and me to make the sacrifices: to eat pesticide-laden fruits and vegetables, to cook tasteless, lifeless beef or chicken. Real meat, organic food? It had become unreachable. The powers that be had made sure only the privileged could afford it.

But I would not surrender when it came to my babies. These small, vulnerable beings who hadn’t asked to come into this world were now my mission, my purpose. They were my whole life.