You know how it goes. You do strange stuff. People ask questions. And what could be more strange than EC? (EC, for those of you who may be unfamiliar, stands for Elimination Communication, the practice of helping babies use the bathroom from birth rather than always going potty in their diapers. You can read more about it here.)

A few weeks ago, a sweet young woman in Switzerland, who has dropped by my blog from time to time, contacted me and asked if she could interview me for a paper she was writing as part of her medical assistant program. (After e-mailing back and forth a few times, we discovered that she actually goes to the same church as our very dear friends in Switzerland–small world!) I was glad to answer her questions, and she graciously agreed to let me post the interview on my blog. I have divided it into parts, and her questions are in italics.

What was your motivation to start EC?

My original motivation for starting EC was that I hoped it would make potty training easier. As a mother of three, going on four small children, I was deep in the throes of potty training trauma, facing the laundry, the carpet cleaning, the wet footprints leading away from puddles, and worst of all, the awful frustration of having a toddler oblivious to messy pants. Proponents of EC claim that babies are born with the same aversion that older humans have to soiling themselves. It’s just that we train it out of them by forcing them to sit in their own waste for two years or so while they’re wearing diapers. Then one day, we decide it’s time for them to hate going in their pants and prefer going to the potty. But why should they? We just spent the last two years teaching them not to care.

After struggling through potty training two older children the traditional way and facing an upcoming third round with my toddler who was still in diapers, I was very interested in seeing if I could improve things the next time around by avoiding making my baby get used to going in her diaper.

But now, after nearly nine months of EC, I have a different motivation (though I’m still very curious to see how potty training goes). When I started EC, I was focused on the “E,” but now my focus is more on the “C.” The feeling of needing to go potty makes my baby uncomfortable, and I can help her feel better. It’s another need I can meet, another call I can answer. She talks, in grunty little baby words. And I understand, just like when she needs warmth, or food, or cuddles. I can’t imagine not doing it.

How is it possible to practice EC along with your busy daily routine?

Before I started, I was really concerned about the time investment. But usually, it only takes a minute to take her to the bathroom and let her go, and it slips easily into my day like nursing and changing diapers. If she finishes nursing, or wakes up from a nap, or is about to change positions (from baby sling to playing on the floor, for example), I take her to the bathroom to see if she needs to go. I don’t really notice the time loss any more than I notice the time loss from helping my older children in the bathroom.

Has the fact that you started EC changed much in your habits of caring for babies, for example, how you dress them?

My baby clothes preferences have changed a bit. I try to keep my baby in clothes that allow quick access in the bathroom and that also allow me to check easily to see if my baby has already gone in her diaper and needs a change rather than a trip to the potty. In the summer, dresses were ideal, but now that it’s cold, I mostly use sleepers with snaps on both legs that can be quickly opened on the way to the bathroom. And most important are old fashioned cloth diapers (not the super-absorbent modern varieties). The baby needs to connect the feeling of wetness with going in her diaper.

But the bigger change has been in how I respond to my baby. When my older children napped, I would usually wait until they cried before I went in and picked them up. Now that I’m paying attention to pottying, I’ve learned that my baby wakes up and lies quietly for a minute or two, goes potty in her diaper, and then cries. So, whenever I can, I try to get her before she cries. This is harder to catch, of course, but if I see her little eyes open, I scoop her up and take her to the bathroom.

I also try to pay better attention to fussing. My baby will fuss and squirm just a bit before she goes. If I don’t notice that, eventually she will go in her diaper, and then she will really cry. With my older children, when I heard the early fussing, I would often just give them a little bounce in my arms as if they were bored and needed a distraction. Now, I’m trying to take my baby to the bathroom. Old habits die hard, though. And I frequently will discover that she’s wet, and then look back and see I had tried to bounce her without even thinking.

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To be continued…

A little head with a whirl of light brown hair snuggles close. I listen to the raspy breathing of her first cold. It’s a doozy. And lying down and nursing with Mommy is the only thing that makes her happy. In the living room, our little church is gathered. My husband’s teaching a flannelgraph on Gideon and the time he threw down the Baal his family and neighbors worshiped. I am missing it. A little hand holds tight to my clothes, a fist on her nursing cheek.

Don’t go, Mommy. I need you.

They’re sharing prayer requests, praying, eating the cookies I baked this afternoon. Someone knocks softly on my bedroom door, but my baby is nursing in her sleep, and I don’t want to yell to see who’s there. There are women here I wanted to talk to and a Hebrew lesson. I love Hebrew. I am missing that, too. Guilt tugs. I feel antisocial. Unspiritual. I try to unlatch and sneak off, but my baby coughs and cries and reaches for me.

Don’t go, Mommy. I need you.

And so I choose my little one and throw down some Baals of my own.

What will people think of you, skipping church? Shouldn’t you be ministering to the other women?

I’m ministering to my baby. And my family is my primary ministry, my most important assignment from the Lord.

You’re home all day with small children. You need some fellowship time, some adult conversation.

I get lots of fellowship time most weeks. And sometimes serving the Lord means denying yourself.

You should be out there learning. This is your chance to study God’s word, use your brain, expand your horizons. Don’t you deserve a little intellectual stimulation?

I can read while I lie here. I can think and pray. And again, sometimes, I have to deny myself.

Are you saying you’re supposed to be completely fulfilled with nothing but this baby?

No. I am completely fulfilled with nothing but the Lord. I will not bow down to any idols, not even the “acceptable” ones that my neighbors worship, like adult conversation, intellectual stimulation, and visible ministries. These are blessings when I get them, but as soon as they interfere with serving Christ, as soon as they cause me to fret and be dissatisfied with the work He has given me, as soon as I cannot be happy without them, then they are idols, and I must throw them down.

My baby rests against me, peaceful, sleeping away her sickness, cuddled up close. I am the only thing that makes her happy. And she is my example. There is only one thing that should make me happy, too.

Don’t go, Father. I need you.

I just heard about another rape. It sounded like a typical “date” rape, perhaps, a report of scorn and bravado. It made me feel angry, and sad, and helpless. Another case of the weaker sex being trampled by the stronger. For all the liberation of the past century, the world is still a dangerous place to be a woman. We are consumables.

A quick look at stats can be staggering. Every two minutes, someone in the U.S. is sexually assaulted. One in six women will be sexually assaulted in her lifetime. Only six per cent of rapists will ever spend a day in jail. It’s horrifying.

But we are not truly helpless. Each one of us has the potential to change the tiny segment of society that we are in contact with every day. We are the salt of the earth, each of us is a grain of salt on rotting flesh, slowing the decay, spreading truth, and preserving life in the face of death. So what is the truth that preserves life in this case? What is the antithesis of a rape philosophy?

Some would say that the fundamental issue is equality. We need to encourage more respect of women’s fundamental equal value. If men didn’t see women as lesser beings, then they wouldn’t treat them as consumables. And certainly, respect for equal value is a part of the necessary attitude, but it can’t be the whole story. College campuses are some of the most egalitarian, almost artificially respectful environments, and yet one in four women will be sexually assaulted on a college campus. Respecting a woman as a microbiologist or creative writer seems to have little effect on whether a man feel free to use her body for his own entertainment.

Now someone’s going to argue that those college guys who rape their classmates at frat parties don’t really respect the equality of women. I’d wager that the majority of frat boy rapists are thoroughly in favor of “equality.” Women should be treated just like men in voting, academics, the job market, and in the every person for him or herself world of sexual fulfillment where “I want what I want and I assume you do, too.” And “I want your body, so I’m going to take it. Why should I stop just because you said, no? Why is what you want more important than what I want? We’re equals. Let’s have a tousle for it. If you win, maybe you can run away, but if I win…” Which, by the way, is exactly the way men treat each other. Men “rape” other men all the time. It just isn’t always physical.

The most crucial attitude is not merely one of respecting equality, but of actively cherishing women. A man with an anti-rape philosophy protects women rather than abusing them, or even just leaving them to fend for themselves. It’s not that he thinks of a woman as his equal but that he recognizes the places where she isn’t and takes it as a sacred responsibility to man up and defend her, sacrificially if he has to. The average man is capable of physically overpowering the average woman. If he does not cherish her, if he views his own desires as the highest value in the universe, then all he needs is opportunity, and another statistic goes down on the rape pages.

Cherishing starts when a man understands that women do not exist for his enjoyment, that their beauty is not an advertisement for a free buffet, that he has no right to any woman’s body, and that women deserve to be valued, protected, and defended, not just because they’re smart, or gifted, or in any other way worthy of respect, but because they are a weaker vessel, meant to be honored like fine china is meant for hand washing and careful stacking, not rough chucking over the backseat of the car like a fry box after a hasty meal. Cherishing means a man is guarding his daughters and watching out for his sisters. It means he’s checking up on what men they’re with and what their intentions are. It means he’s giving other men the message that he will not leave women alone in the world. It means taking away opportunities from men who are looking for them. 1 Peter 3:7 is addressed to husbands, but I think it gives a fair assessment of how God views women and the way He wants them to be cared for.

Likewise, ye husbands, dwell with them according to knowledge, giving honour unto the wife, as unto the weaker vessel, and as being heirs together of the grace of life; that your prayers be not hindered. –1 Peter 3:7

Instilling this attitude in our sons is a tiny positive step we can take towards making sure that our daughters live in a safer world.