Mothers and Infants are Uncomfortable at Church: A Call for Help
Guest Post: Ashley Hoth lives deep in the woods of Castle Rock, Washington with her husband and three young children. She studied recreational therapy at BYU and loves oil painting. Art is one of her favorite ways of connecting with her Heavenly Parents and Christ, and she uses art to cope with and explore complicated things. She enjoys working with wood from the family sawmill, building forts with her children, and is a big fan of hammocks.
Original artwork by Ashley. Check out more at her Instagram: @ashleyhoth_art.
It was stake conference, and I had a very new baby. While my busy toddler and older child could handle the 2-hour meeting with enough toys and snacks, I dreaded the prospect with my nursing baby. I knew how many young mothers would be there and how little space there was for us. Nonetheless we went and soon our baby needed to nurse. It was crowded on the folding chairs and the nursing cover wasn’t working, so I retreated to the mother’s room – a small, closet-sized space. I opened it, and I still remember the look on the young mother’s face as she sat in the only chair, with a tiny baby crying on her lap as she struggled to change a diaper. She looked up at me surprised and apologetic, and I closed the door to give her privacy.
The other main rooms were also crowded, so I returned to my husband and asked for the car keys to nurse there. Though my instincts told me I would have been better off with a zoom link and my baby safe at home, societal expectations urged us to attend. Mothers often bear the brunt, missing talks and resorting to nursing in cars. My husband knew I was worried and had said it would be fine, but now all my concerns proved accurate so he stood up and said, “follow me.”
Being involved with the stake presidency, he had access to the high council room. Unlocking the door, he ushered me into a spacious room where the voice of the speaker filled the air. A large table surrounded by comfortable padded chairs with armrests greeted us. My chair even tipped back slightly, perfect for nursing. My husband made sure I was comfortable, then left. Sitting there, able to hear the talks while caring for my baby, I glanced around the room. I saw fifteen large, framed pictures of men – the First Presidency of the church and the current Twelve Apostles. I looked at the many other chairs used almost exclusively by men in the high council room of the stake building. “They really don’t see us,” I thought in that moment.
It was a pain I can’t describe, cuddling and caring for my sweet child, fulfilling what this church has taught is the highest honor of women, while seeing the stark contrast between the closet-sized space for the mothers, and the big, comfortable room used by the men.
It felt like that soft seat in that big space invited me to set down a pack I didn’t know I was carrying. Once the weight was off and I could look at it, I saw how heavy and huge a burden it was, trying to get through church with a baby and my kids, and it hurt. This space showed it didn’t need to be that hard, and it brought me to tears.
I felt for the other moms pacing in the halls who didn’t have access to this space. I flashed to the other places where I had tried feeding babies at church over the years, bumping knees with another mom and our babies looking up too distracted to eat, or having my baby wake every time a toilet flushed, or the folding chair I set up in the corner of empty classrooms with my back to the door, and foot propped on the wall. All that ache mingled with relief that I was in a space that was so truly comfortable for my needs, yet I felt like an intruder, knowing that space was not intended for me.
Then it hit me. All high council rooms could be open to mothers and infants during every stake conference in every building. Can we ask this of our leaders? Can we spread the word? Other stakes may do this or have better spaces already, but if not, inviting mothers into high council rooms would help. It usually has the space to spread out, the soft chairs with armrests, the in-wall speakers, the quiet corner of the building, and it’s easy to open a door and hang signs welcoming mothers. I’ve been in other countries where public nursing is much more accepted, but if we still insist on it being more covered and private in some places like the United States, we have got to provide more space. Young mothers are carrying around huge burdens, compounded by the crammed, dated, uncomfortable and insufficient mothers rooms.
I know leaders don’t mean to not see us, which is why I share this story. If they don’t know, they can’t help. Share this, so leaders can know. Being a mother in Zion can be hard, and I am not unfaithful, deceived, power-hungry, or selfish for saying that – all things that have been said at times about women who have brought honest concerns to the table in our church. We can do better for our sisters and our daughters, and I know so many leaders are eager to help. This is a simple place to start.
(This is a guest post solicited to be a companion piece to LDS Mother’s Rooms for Nursing Moms Suck – Exponent II. Click for examples of how LDS mother’s rooms compared to other some at other church buildings.)
