There's a handful of topics my husband and I have agreed to leave in the "don't discuss" file: how much money is an appropriate amount to spend on heirloom seeds shipped in from the other side of the world; the Middle East generally; whether unions are, on the whole, a good or bad thing for business (I'm a union member, so you can guess which one of us sits on the "pro" side of that fence.)
Fortunately, we pretty much agree on almost all parenting philosophies (which is a good thing, since we have little choice but to hash them out regularly), particularly the really "controversial" ones that seem to erupt into all-out holy war in online forums, the media and, occasionally, in real life, too.
You know the ones I mean - the topics that, unless you're really vocal and opinionated, you tend to avoid discussing publicly at all costs: sleeping arrangements (a.k.a. co-sleeping), circumcision, breastfeeding (or lack of it), and vaccinations, not to mention nursing in public, gender stereotyping, discipline and birth generally.
And trust me, there's more I've not listed (I've seen discussions about juice consumption and pacifiers devolve pretty quickly.)
When a baby arrives, along with the stacks of diapers and mounds of laundry comes a whole lot of choices which, depending on which roads you take, will be well received by those around you, or soundly denounced.
We've navigated these choices as a team, and I'm confident enough in those choices to feel willing to back them up when questioned - but, like most, I typically prefer not to delve too deeply into these debates anymore, having learned the hard way that, once made, such opinions rarely change very much.
Our different parenting choices become very deeply entrenched in our vision of ourselves. More often than not, when someone debates one of these topics they're seeking like-minded support as much, if not more, than open discussion that may inform or change their own stance.
Consequently, most of us put these topics into our own personal "don't discuss" files for fear of angering or upsetting others, or getting caught up in a debate we're not interested in having.
Which is why I don't often discuss the fact that my kids are both fully vaccinated and that I strongly believe in the value of immunization.
There, I said it. I'm a "vaxxer" and proudly - though usually quietly - so. (Shall I clear out my inbox now for a barrage of email cheering me on or calling me out?)
I can't lie: it wasn't a decision I took lightly or without reservation. In a world where Google has all-too-often replaced professional medical opinion, where concerns about the motivations of pharmaceutical companies are sometimes quite warranted, where misinformation can be spread as quickly and as successfully as valid scientific facts, deciding to vaccinate can be a challenging and emotion-fraught process.
In the end, I did what I always do: relied on a combination of knowledge, research, the advice of those around me (including a supportive family doctor who is a big fan of providing medical advice without using guilt tactics) and plain old gut instinct.
Particularly compelling arguments came from an old high school friend who grew up to become a nurse working in desperate conditions in foreign countries.
There's nothing like seeing "harmless" vaccinepreventable diseases in action to make someone a champion - hearing some of her stories reminded me all too clearly that we in the Western world have forgotten what epidemics look like and how deadly certain diseases can be.
This internal debate came back to the fore recently when I brought my youngest daughter in for her 18-month shots - which I was surprised to discover now includes one less jab, thanks to a change in B.C.'s immunization schedule effective Jan. 1. (See www.immunizebc.ca for more information on these changes.)
Like most parents, it's not a task I enjoy, and now that we're through the infant vaccines, I'm relieved I don't have to think about it again for several more years.
It's not fun - but I believe deeply that it's the right thing to do. In parenting, there's plenty of moments that fall under the same dichotomy of unpleasant but necessary.
At the end of the day, I don't "judge" those who have made a different decision. I think I'm capable of disagreeing with someone, even vehemently, without consequently judging them.
I'll reserve my judgement for my husband's next shipment of overpriced heirloom seeds from the other side of the planet - you know, a really critical issue.
