Skip to main content

Happy Birth Day

There were quite a few things I didn't know about having children, before I had children.  I didn't know you had to relinquish sleep, getting plastered, and using the loo alone for the foreseeable future.  I didn't know that parenting involved such high levels of patience, guilt and housework.  And I didn't know that my children's birthdays, especially their first birthdays, would be a day that was also for me, a day to get misty eyed as I remembered the last hours I held them tight within my body, and a time for turning over and over in my mind the story, from the first stirrings of labour to the moment of their birth. 

Another thing I didn't know before I had children is that giving birth can be one of the most incredible, exciting and empowering experiences of your life.  During my first pregnancy I was filled with fear, absolutely dreading the act of bringing my child into the world, which to me seemed impossible, terrifying, and grotesque.  Despite or perhaps because of this fear, I spent nine months fanatically researching childbirth, reading every book and internet article I could find on the subject.  I had the best intentions to have a natural birth at home, but somehow, I ended up in hospital with my feet in stirrups.  They say if you believe something enough you can make it happen: in my case I believed, deep down, that I really couldn't do it, and that belief was brought starkly to life for me when Cutlery Ken the Obstetrician set to work on my nether regions.

Second time around I had learnt something that none of the books or articles could teach me: the baby was definitely going to come out, and if I didn't do it myself, then somebody else would.  As I waited for my baby, who turned up, like her sister, a long time past her due date, I still felt afraid, and a part of me remained convinced that it wasn't actually possible, even though I had already done it once.  I was greatly helped by the website http://www.mybirth.tv/, which has several films of women giving birth at home, often in water.  I was stunned by the images - women giving birth so calmly, in dimly lit pools, the only sound their low moans and the gentle lapping of water.  These films challenged everything I had ever been led to expect; that birth was an on-your-back-and-helpless, near impossible feat of biology-gone-wrong.  It has occurred to me since - are we all just 'copying' the soap opera image of birth, because we don't know any other way?  In the same way that many women struggle to breastfeed because they have never seen anyone else breastfeeding, perhaps we are struggling to birth gently, powerfully and positively because we have never seen anyone doing it this way.

A year ago today, my second daughter was born at home in a birth pool, completely naturally and without any intervention or drugs.  For a long time I would tell myself, and other people, that it is not that difficult to give birth without pain relief, because pain is the wrong word for the sensations of labour, and that with the power of your mind you can reframe the sensations into 'rushes', 'tightenings' or even pleasurable feelings.  Whilst I think this is partly true, I also think it is ok to say that some of the feelings were the worst and most horrendous pain imaginable. I'm sure that people who perform other feats like running marathons or climbing great peaks would be happy to admit that they have moments of tremendous struggle and physical agony, and that they push forward in spite of them.  When I remember giving birth, I feel an enormous sense of power, achievement and inner strength, that I felt such fear and terrible pain, and that I battled on, with the spirit of the greatest of warriors.

We need to struggle, and sometimes even suffer, in order to change, develop, grow.  Today I will be full of pride, as I watch my dear little daughter try to walk with such concentrated effort, crying at the injustice of the knocks and falls, and grinning and dancing with each small moment of progress.  And at the same time remembering another determined girl, who, this time last year, felt terribly frightened, but somewhere found the courage to push herself to her absolute limits.



Comments

  1. Thankyou for the mention of mybirth.tv, glad you found it useful and inspired you to achieving the birth you wanted.
    Happy 1st Birthday to your daughter

    ReplyDelete
  2. thank you berny, i really did find your site so useful! i hope more women discover it and come to perceive birth more positively as a result.
    all the best xxx

    ReplyDelete
  3. Great post!
    I've tagged you in the Save the children this is me, this is my future meme. I hope you don't mind! see my blog for more info

    ReplyDelete
  4. 'We need to struggle, and sometimes even suffer, in order to change, develop, grow. '

    That is so true, and its a lesson for our children too.

    ReplyDelete
  5. hey mummy dichotomy, thanks! and thanks for the tag...the deadline is sunday! i've sworn off blogging for the weekend after spending too much time ignoring my partner this week, but i will do my best if i can!
    and mark, thanks again for following, and i'm very flattered by your comment!
    x

    ReplyDelete
  6. Love it! You are so right - Natural Birth Hippy that I am I still say that the first thing that birth means to me is "the hardest work I ever did". You really hit the nail on the head though with the references to mountain climbers etc - its the achievement through adversity, not just being a passive body in your babies journey but possessing the birth, channeling power, living it, breathing it, loving it and being nealy drowned by it but each time coming out from the "rush" triumphant... We can change the blueprint of birth... one blog at a time... Happy Birthday little girl and big girl x

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

'Childism' - As Utterly Unacceptable as Sexism and Racism

In the past few decades, mankind has had to shake up their attitudes about a number of things. It is no longer considered to be 'ok' to degrade, humiliate, taunt or insult another human being on the grounds of their sex, race or sexuality. It still happens of course, but it is not considered acceptable. Make a sexist or racist joke down your local pub and you might get away with it. But post an image on Facebook that derides another human being, and you're likely to be reported or even prosecuted. That is, unless that image is of a child. Then it's ok. These images have been doing the rounds this week. Most commenters seem to agree that they are 'hilarious': "Comedy Gold' "Gave me a smile - thanks" "A bit of humour" "I just love this!" I beg to differ. The children in these pictures look sad, and humiliated. At a time when they clearly need help to sort out their sibling rivalries and calm their emotional

While I Nurse You To Sleep...

While I nurse you to sleep...  I.. . rest .   For the first time today, I am still.  I am not lifting, carrying, holding, bending, reaching, stretching, scrubbing, wiping, hauling, or lugging. Here in this dark room I lie beside you and allow my body and mind to come to stillness after the chaos of our day. You suck, and tug, you fiddle, and fuss...and slowly come to stillness too, until we both are still, and both are resting...I wait, momentarily, and then, I slowly slide away and leave you sleeping. While I nurse you to sleep... I...take stock. I turn over in my mind, the contents of the fridge, the washing on the floor, the money in the bank. I count up the years I've had so far and the years I might have left. I work out how old I will be when you are the age I am now - thirty seven - seventy two. I hope I make it. I count the eggs you already have in your body and those I have in mine and I wonder at the people they may become. I think about the person I was before I met

What Kind of Woman Breastfeeds a Toddler?

"What kind of woman breastfeeds a toddler?" : this question has been asked this week in a variety of tones, ranging from total disgust to mildly shocked curiosity. Much has been made of the fact that Jamie Lynne Grumet, the woman pictured nursing her three year old son on the cover of last week's Time , is 'young and pretty'. There's apparently been some shock that a woman who looks like a trendily dressed model would behave in such a way. It seems like a lot of people associate extended breastfeeding with a very different kind of woman - stereotypically larger, rounder, hairier, hippier, older, uglier and weirder it would seem. This got me thinking. What kind of woman actually nurses her child beyond one? This week I've put the word out and asked mothers who do to send me a picture and a few details about themselves, including their reasons for keeping on breastfeeding. The Time cover, for all its faults, has in many ways paved the way for other women t