Monday, 26 October 2009

• Does Birth Define Motherhood?

  Rixa Freeze wrote a really interesting blog post about her feelings regarding this blog post. I have a feeling that we may see this go the web rounds and back as it really is such a great discussion so I hope some of you will take a look.
  
  I have not even read everything thoroughly but my first thoughts in response to this subject were so long, I thought I might as well write a blog post myself. I am still processing, so please forgive me for a rather convoluted post with unfinished thoughts.
  
  I believe that birth in the widest sense of the word defines motherhood. Whether it is the culmination of an adoption process, a cesarean section, or a vaginal birth, a live baby or a dead baby, these all define the moment of us becoming mothers, each and every time for each and every child. Is it the only defining moment? Does it define all of motherhood? Absolutely not. However, the first moment of motherhood is an initiation which, while unique each time, is unique in its very nature the first time. Is that first moment unredeemable if it went differently than expected or hoped for? No, I don't think so. All the moments thereafter are just as important and continue to define us, and initiate us. Many, many moments will shape us as mothers as the relationship and the interactions with our children grows.

  The above mentioned blog post by Sweetsalty is a reaction to this post by Jan Tritten. I didn't quite read Jan's post the same way as Sweetsalty did though I understand where she is coming from. I keep getting back to my opinion that in the US, natural birth advocacy is a reaction, a cry, a scream against how birth is viewed and often handled in our society. As the movement becomes more and more widespread and is reaching more women, I think there is however a growing risk in portraying a certain kind of birth as an ideology, which in turn will also let women down. A counter movement will grow out of anger about this. 'If you just have that home birth, you will have a great experience.' 'If you have an unassisted birth it will be even more perfect.' and 'If you do go to the hospital, make sure you have a doula, then it will be great there too.' I am wondering if we are not setting young women up for failure by defining what a good birth looks like and they get something different, something unique to who they are and who their babies are. Compare it to moms who learn hypnobirthing only to find themselves at a loss when it doesn't work. A certain feeling of betrayal would be normal I think. So, if the ideal of a natural childbirth as this wonderful smooth birth by candle light is the goal of natural childbirth advocates, then we are on the wrong track, I think. Some women will have this, and it should certainly be mentioned as a possibility and even as something one can work towards because we are filled with cultural fears, but birth is also very very raw and hard work, with poop and sweat and vomiting.
  

  In my opinion, when we talk about birth, it needs to be about our autonomy, our education (prenatal, labor and post partum), and our inner world. We need to find and expand in all three areas. We need to embrace our life on all those levels. Not just to have the best birth possible, a birth that is healthy for mom and baby -yes, I am aware that it is only the baby's birth but also to have a good start as the mother of a newborn. Ideally however, these things would be a natural progression of how our lives would already have been lived, with consciousness, personal responsibility and awe for the mysteries of life. In a perfect world or society, we would then just give birth, and the birth would be what it was, and we would have peace. Life would go on with this added dimension that totally fitted within the continuum of our lives. The only reason it is not this way is because other people are defining what birth needs to be for us. Natural childbirth and medical birth professionals alike, as well as everyone in between. Even my thoughts as a doula can intervene in a woman's birth.

  True respect for the person in front of us is hard to find in the world, let alone in the medical field where boundaries are blurry and many doctors easily fall prey to thinking they are God. We also all can have respect for an individual but we often do not place this individual within the parameters that define it's worldview. One of my miscarriages comes to mind, where the ultra sounds technologist said, "I am sorry, there is no heart beat. Let's schedule a D&C." It was a very respectful exchange, but not once was I asked how I wanted to handle this, nor was I offered alternatives. It was only the fact that I had a great midwife with me that spared me going through this procedure. She had some understanding of my worldview as an Orthodox Christian, and she knew some about me. She knew I would want nature to take it's course and seek help if I needed any.  I think when it comes to treating pregnant women as patients, these are very important issues.
  

  So, to get back to birth as defining motherhood: For me the above is why 'my' births were important and most defining, or I should say, the start of the defining that would continue to take place. Defining being a process in a very Orthodox Christian way of speaking.

  My childrens' births gave me back a part of me that had never been violated, and considering that 1 in 4 women are abused that would be an important process for many women I think. 'My' births made me connect with a deep part of me, and connecting with it made me grow in other areas as well in a way that was different to how I usually grow (most often through painful mistakes or through confusion in interaction with others). This growth was internally prompted and more of a discovery journey. I cannot deny how important birth was to me, nor what it would have meant if I hadn't had those experiences, and I only imagine dying and death to surpass this kind of growing.
  

  Did this all make me a better mother? Did those births define me as a mother in the moment? I don't think so. No one thing does. But I want to try to live to my full potential, and the reason my births were so empowering was exactly because they were just births. They unfolded without hindrance in the way they needed to, in all their unexpectedness, beauty but also rawness. This autonomy empowered me. From my first to my last, which was the ultimate autonomy for me, it having been an unassisted birth, they were all with true respect for what those births needed to be. They unfolded exactly the way they needed to for baby and me, on all levels, not just physical ones but spiritual ones as well, and without fear based interference. And that is what I would want for every woman. When a woman is autonomous or when she feels that her autonomy is respected by others, she can heal her woundedness and she will start blossoming. How did feminism miss this?
  

  In the current society, when it comes to physically giving birth, sometimes it is needed to shake the cultural acceptance of what birth is by putting it in women's faces that the way we have a baby is important for both her and her baby, both in the moment of unfolding, as well as for the rest of their lives. Does this put any one kind of birth on a pedestal? I don't think so, and if it does it shouldn't. Neither does it make birth the single most important thing to define motherhood. But it would be really sad if no questions were asked and no goals were set in a society where the norm in childbirth is not producing results. When flawed medical research is used to set hospital policies, when money drives the rest of the choices made, and when doctors are afraid of litigation, what else do we have than our inner convictions that birth is bigger than all this and much more than a medical and physiological event?
  

  
  

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