Criticizing Birth

I love analogies. Let's imagine you're an artist, getting ready to paint a canvas. You have a full array of colors, brushes, and tools at your disposal. You start to work on your painting, and reach for a certain hue of blue you'd like to use, but the pot falls out of your hand and smashes on the floor. Damn. You keep on painting anyway. You reach for a special brush to fill in the details, but as you apply it to the canvas, the bristles break off. Double damn! You are a little disappointed, because your painting isn't quite what you envisioned now that you can't use that specific color blue and that little brush. Nevertheless, you finish up as best you can, and you're pretty pleased with the results. You take your painting to a gallery and hang it on the wall. As you step back to admire it, someone walks up and says, "Nice painting. But you really should have used some more blue on this part, and it's not quite perfect without the details of a small brush around this part here. Oh well."

That's kind of how I feel when I see people criticizing a woman's birth.

I've been trying to write this post for days. It's been a hard one for me, because as usual, I'm a fence-straddler. I mean, we're birth junkies. This is what we do. We talk about birth. We debate, analyze, and discuss every single little niggling detail, and never tire of it. In doing so we aim to normalize healthy birth practices and eradicate dangerous, non-evidence-based ones. And hell yes, we get MAD about it.

But at the same time, it makes me want to punch my computer screen. Are we incapable of typing "Congrats on your birth!" without tacking on a "...but" at the end? Why do we feel the need to henpeck every birth we see or read about? There is no such thing as a perfect birth - you could find ANYTHING in ANY birth to nitpick apart. So why does it seem like we are demanding a standard of 100% five-star excellence for every single birth that happens?

You know, I used to get defensive when I heard people making this claim, that we birth advocates are self-righteous assholes whose only concern is getting the "perfect experience" no matter what the cost, and look down on all the women who fall short of that ideal. I would angrily think to myself that they were missing the point - we're just striving for a normalization of the safe, healthy, happy birth that every mother and baby deserves! We aren't out to make anybody feel bad.

Or are we??

I'm glad I held off for a few days writing this entry, because the perfect example of this phenomenon just took place last night. You've probably heard about Lynsee, a teacher from Minnesota, who decided to broadcast her first child's birth live on the internet. Like thousands of other women, you probably watched the webcast. I didn't, mainly because hospital births make me feel like a Vietnam vet hurling himself behind the couch and screaming "Charlie in the trees!" at the sound of firecrackers. I don't have access to any recorded footage, so I'm not sure if there's any way to see it if you missed out (although Jill from Unnecesarean has some adorable screencaps). However, you might not have to watch it to get the general gist of what went down. I followed the comments thread on Jill's Facebook fanpage, and watched a hue and cry rise up: "Why did she get an epidural??" "Why did they keep the baby in the warmer so long??" "Why didn't they do skin-to-skin?" "Whywhywhywhywhy?"

It didn't help that this birth, in my mind, piggybacked on another birth of a friend of a friend, who had a hospital VBAC that she was pleased with and yet had to face down a barrage of "shouldn't have gotten the epidural," "too many vaginal exams," forced pushing is bad," comments. I just wanted to scream, "SHE HAD A FUCKING VBAC!!!! That's more than the vast majority of C-section moms even consider doing, and you want to pick her apart for having a goddamn epidural?? SHUT! UP!"

I'm not completely innocent, though. I will admit that I do the mental critique myself. I recently watched Alexandra Orchard's HBA2C video and although it was a magnificent, triumphant birth that had me shouting with joy at my desk, I cringed to see her midwives immediately suctioning the baby, rather aggressively, and jamming a hat on her head the minute she was born. I thought it totally unnecessary and annoying. But, I kept my critique to myself. Alexandra clearly enjoyed her VBAC. I'm not going to be the one to tarnish what someone views as a positive experience. I'm not going to be the one going, "Nice painting....BUT."

It almost seems to me that we forget that the postpartum period (and not just the few hours after birth) is still an important part of the birth experience. Women can be vulnerable and suggestible during labor, but they can be ten times more fragile afterwards, especially the first-timers (and hell, even the seasoned moms can doubt themselves too). Between groggy 3 a.m. feedings, meconium, and fluids leaking from what appears to be a Bermuda Triangle made of enormous, swollen faucets, the mom is often stricken with worries of "Am I feeding the baby right?" "Am I comforting her right?" "Am I dressing him right?" With so much confusion, it seems cruel to force her to wonder, "Did I birth right?"

Chances are, the mom has probably already done a self-analysis of what happened, and if not, she will soon...or eventually. I'm not saying we should clamp our lips, smile and nod, and pretend that a nightmarish birth is just hunky-dory. What I'm saying is, let her lead the way. If you have misgivings about her birth, but she is happy with it, wait for your cue to let her know you agree. If it never comes, then so be it. If she is angry, allow her to be. Sympathize. Empathize. If she wonders what went wrong, gently guide her towards the answer. But whatever the case, STOP TELLING HER HOW TO FEEL. If we insist that a woman be furious about _____ that happened during her birth, we are no better than those who say, "You should be grateful that you have a healthy baby, that's all that matters." Demanding that all women birth in one specific way according to what we believe is best is not going to work, no matter if you are forcing them to put their feet in stirrups like a stranded beetle or squat in a pool of water like a cavewoman.

In the end, it is the mother's birth. Some say that what happens during one birth affects all of us, and in a way I can buy into that one-love, harmony-and-unity vibe. I for sure felt it hard and strong during my second labor, like I was on a spiritual plane with every other woman throughout time who had ever given birth. But if you step back and think objectively, it is still just her birth. Not your birth. How it makes you feel is not how it made her feel. It happened to her, she took part in it, and it will affect HER for the rest of her life. Not you. Speak softly, and tread that line between thoughtful discussion and idealistic oppression.

In an ideal world, every woman would be able to birth her baby happily at home, into her own hands, and the midwife would sit quietly nearby, calmly shepherding their sacred space. It would be perfect, unhindered, unrushed, and overflowing with blooming love. But this world is not ideal and neither is birth. To expect this to unfold in every single birth, regardless of location, is nothing short of delusional, especially when there are so many other factors at play than just what the birthing mother wants and needs. So while we lend a compassionate ear to women processing their experiences, instead of railing against their choices, let's rail against the system that encourages these unnecessary practices we abhor.

L.G. summed up it perfectly in my comments: "....I steadfastly insisted that, ultimately, our goal as doulas, midwives, birth advocates, etc., is NOT that everyone has the same 'crunchy' experience, but that every birthing woman is treated with respect, given information based on evidence, not fear or coercion, and allowed to make informed choices without being made to feel guilty or 'less than.'"