Mean Girls of Motherhood

Labor Day was less than a month ago (from this post, on September 27th... I cannot believe it is going to be October in 3 days).  That weekend, I'd stayed behind while the remainder of my family (Spouse, Child 1 and Child 2) traveled to visit his parents.  I planned on attending the Labor Day Rally To Improve Birth, but what I had not planned on was speaking at the event.

This may not seem like the biggest event on Earth, certainly not in terms of public speaking engagements... or even that big of a deal in general to many, but it was a big deal to me.

It's a big deal that someone felt I had something to say.  It was a big deal since anytime I can offer words, actions, or thoughts of support to another woman  I relish the opportunity.  It's a big deal to me to be given the chance to connect with others who have similar interests and passions.  It's a big deal to me to meet people with a like mind-set about birth, child-rearing, and general women's health rights beliefs,  This is important to me since I feel at times that I'm living in the adult version of Mean Girls.

For those of you who haven't seen Mean Girls, I'm not going to spoil it for you.  I am going to say you should Netflix it, and if you don't empathize with one of the characters... you might have been, or might be a mean girl... sorry.

Back at the Rally, I listened to other women speak about their experiences.  I smiled at their anecdotes, I empathized with their struggles, the whole time trying to think of ways I could support them and other women.  Ways I could make things better...

Perhaps it is this naive optimism that led me to believe I could talk about the idea of improving birth with the rest of the world, and experience the same camaraderie.  Unfortunately... I was wrong.

When I mentioned to someone that I'd spoken at the Rally, I was greeted with an eye roll and a comment about a woman "Who cried over having a C-Section?  Jeepers, I had a c-section and I was fine!  It's nothing to cry about."

It took a great deal of self-control to keep my head.  I wanted to remind this woman of the lengthy discussion she and I had engaged in not even a month earlier.  That discussion involved her first c-section, and afterward she decided that she wanted a repeat with her second child.  

Her doctors forced her to try a VBAC, despite her wishes.  This resulted in another prolonged labor with no progression, and another round of surgery that she could have been prepared for, but she wasn't.  She was exhausted from laboring, exhausted from surgery, and exhausted from not being able to have the birth she wanted.

I wanted to remind her that she had her choices taken away from her.  I wanted to remind her that this had made her very angry, and that I had supported her desire to have another c-section even if her decision was different from my own.  I wanted to yell at her and say "How dare you judge someone else for being upset over having their choices taken away from them?  You had your choices taken from you, can't you empathize?"

What I said, instead, was that the woman who spoke at the Rally wasn't "crying about having to have a c-section."  "She was upset that she had to travel so far in order to have the birth she wanted.  She was upset that her care providers weren't listening to her desires, and were trying to force her into a surgery that may have not been necessary.  She upset because her choices were taken away from her."

The conversation then changed to how a Mother's choices always aren't in the best interest of the child, with the woman using the example of a nurse at an OB/GYN's office who was electing induction at 37-38 weeks. "Sometimes mothers don't always know best."

While I agreed with this statement, and considered the elective induction at 37-38 weeks to be unnecessary and frivolous, I also felt that judging this woman was wrong.  I didn't know her history, medical condition, or the level of emotional support she'd have during labor.  I knew nothing about her.  

I did feel sorry that she lacked access to a supportive caregiver who would advise against early induction, and support her through those final weeks of pregnancy.  I felt sad that she was misinformed by the adage that "37 weeks is 'technically' full term," and didn't have a group of friends or anyone to help her make a better decision.  I felt angry that her doctor was allowing this without advising her of the risks.  But I didn't judge her - I only wished more support and more information for her.  I didn't judge her, even if in my opinion her choices were wrong... they weren't my choices.  They were hers. 

Judging women for their choices regarding birth, parenting, or anything have to do with children happens everyday.  Caregivers, Doctors, The Media... but the most abhorrent of these judgements - I feel - come from other mothers.  Other mothers who have been through similar experiences, and probably experienced similar judgements, are the primary source of repeating the very same behaviors they probably complained about.  And sometimes it's not even judgements about decisions; sometimes it's comments that are meant to inform, but really sabotage the confidence of the person on the receiving end.

It happens to every pregnant woman at least once during her 40 week long creation of life.  Sometimes it's expected because the person is "just that way," and sometimes it's completely out of the blue.  But it's almost ALWAYS from another female.  

" I was so sick for the whole 9 months I was puking constantly, have fun with that!"

"Oh, you poor thing.  I wasn't sick at all, I felt great!"

"I gained 900 pounds while I was pregnant!  Just you wait, you'll pack it on as well."

"I only gained 18 pounds, and I lost it within 6 months.  You'll get there!"

"Labor was THE WORST PAIN EVER!  I was in labor for days and it was awful.  Just sign up for the epidural now."

"I labored so fast I didn't have time for pain medicine; the doctor barely made it in to catch the baby!"

"I had a completely natural birth - no pain medicine.  You don't need it and it's so bad for you."

(Side note: those quotes above were all things I either had said to me, or heard someone say to another pregnant woman.  No joke.)

It gets worse later.  By the end of the pregnancy not only are you sick of being pregnant, you're sick to death of people judging your choices and decisions.

"You're having a home birth???  Are you CRAZY?"

"Oh, hospitals are so awful... you should just stay home and let it happen naturally."

"I hated breastfeeding - hated it.  I wish I'd never tried it."

"I tried to breastfeed, but I never had enough milk... everyone struggles with that.  It's best to just get formula now because you'll probably run out of milk before you know it."

"I breastfed for 3 years without any problem."

"You're co-sleeping?  Are you crazy?"

"You put your baby in a separate room?  Are you Crazy???"

"You're not vaccinating? Are you insane?"

"Don't you know how bad vaccines are for children?"

"Circumcision is a horrible, awful process."

"I can't believe you didn't circumcise; he's going to get made fun of later on!"

"You're going to smother that child with that wrap you are wearing.  Babywearing is dangerous!"

"That poor child in the stroller; you should wear him."

"Cloth diapering is ridiculous."

"Disposables are terrible!"

"Time out doesn't work."

"A spanking never hurt me!"

"Don't have dogs around children - they'll eat them!"

"Every child should have a pet, you're depriving them of that experience."

Stop! 

What are we doing to each other?  Scratch that... What are we trying to accomplish?  What are we hoping for by saying these things to one another?  Are we hoping to change someones' mind?  

Unfortunately, unless they're sitting on the fence, nothing you say is going to change their mind.  If they're going to breastfeed, they're going to breastfeed.  If they're going to circumcise, they're going to circumcise. And that's their choice.  You might think it's wrong/insane/stupid... but it's not your job to decide what THEY think is best for their child, or best for themselves.  If these statements are meant to inform, or encourage, or support ... there are certainly better ways of expressing those sentiments.   

But again, I ask...why do we do this to one another?  If a doctor, or  husband/partner/male said anything like this to us we'd flip out. They'd be called misogynists, or assholes... how could they possibly understand what a woman goes through during pregnancy/birth/labor/breastfeeding?

Though...at least in my experience, these and other comments said to me didn't come from men.  They came from other women.  Other women who should understand, and have been in similar situations.  Why do we do this?  Isn't being pregnant, laboring, delivering, parenting... aren't all those things difficult and frightening enough without the comments?  Isn't it hard enough to believe you're doing the right thing without someone constantly telling you how wrong you are?

I want each and every one of us to look in the mirror, admit that we all have done this to another woman, and vow to never do it again.  Instead, if we're looking to support other women in birthing decisions and parenting choices, think of more constructive ways to share your experiences or opinions.  For example...

"For me, I want a hospital birth because I want someone else to do the clean-up work. I know I wouldn't be able to resist from cleaning up something when I should be resting.  But good for you for having a home birth, I hope it goes great!"

"I couldn't breastfeed, it was too much trouble.  But I know they have support groups.. if it's important to you, look into one; they'll probably have more suggestions than I do."

See?  Not so hard... still validating your own opinion/choice, and doing it without making the other person feel bad about themselves.

I wrote a post about why I chose to VBAC, and why I would always choose to do so.  But that is me.  It was written by me, for me, and for anyone else sitting on the fence about trying to VBAC or not.  Since I wrote that, and since I attended the Rally, I really want to see someone write a post about choosing a repeat c-section.  

While I may not agree with them, I want to know what they went through during the process of choosing.  I want to know how it went, if they had support, if the doctors and nurses were kind.  I want to know if she was happy with her choice, and applaud her for sticking with it.  I want to tell her that I support her decision, and I support her right to make that choice if she feels that is what's best for her and her family.

This universal support and acceptance of the fact that while our opinions and choices may differ, our goals remain the same, is the driving force behind the #isupportyou movement on twitter.  It is the reason I feel improving birth and women's choices in birth is so important.  It's the reason I keep speaking out about my birth choices, or my parenting choices... We need to feel like we are not alone.

At the Rally a woman spoke about her experience, and she explained how moved she was by a sign that said "Peace on Earth Begins At Birth."  This is a powerful statement.  Peace begins at birth, within us, from us.  Peace begins with us extending that peace to others, encouraging them and supporting them.  Peace can only be spread by peaceful acceptance of different opinions and choices.  And I want to expand on that by adding one of my favorite quotes and standing principles in life... If we want peace on Earth, we need to initiate that.  We must be the change we want to see in the world.  

Perception: Pain vs. Paaaaaaainnnnn...

Pain is a part of our lives - it' an unfortunate and unavoidable part of being human.  Physical pain, emotional pain, psychological pain... From the minute we exit the womb, we begin learning coping mechanisms to deal with pain.  There are so many factors that influence these mechanisms, I can't even begin to go into them.  I'd need three separate blogs, or an academic thesis, to discuss all the sociological, religious, interpersonal, and psychological factors that influence how we deal with, and respond, to pain.

When a woman becomes pregnant, after the "congratulations" and "oh, how exciting" statements cease, one of the first topics of discussion that arises is how she'll labor.  Mainly, how she'll deal with the pain of labor.  It's a legitimate discussion because being pregnant, laboring and birthing a child is - undoubtedly - painful.  But what has always baffled me is the social perception of  this pain.   I feel that perception can sometimes trick women into fearing the pain more than they should.

When I was a freshman in college, I broke the toe closest to my pinky.  I was being picked up by my parents to be taken to Des Moines for Thanksgiving holiday, and when they called to let me know they were leaving I jumped out of bed and - rushing to get the phone so I wouldn't wake up my roommate completely - kicked the edge of my bed and broke my toe.  The pain was excruciating, and that is no understatement. That literary image of tears springing to your eyes in response to the pain?  That happened.  It was definitely an eight on this pain scale (props to Hyperbole and a Half).  I will never, in my life, forget how badly that hurt.

I believe I have a pretty high pain tolerance, but I'll be the first to admit that I take Tylenol or Advil when I have a headache before trying any of the other remedies (napping, drinking water, stopping caffeine intake).  I don't like pain; I especially don't like seeing people in pain, so I'm all about relieving it in anyway shape or form.  Unfortunately, there's not much they can do for a broken toe.  Wrap it to the other supporting digits, and "try to stay off it."

Good luck with that.  I was a college freshman walking to and from class, and I was on the dance team, which meant various bouts of pain ranging from "somewhat distressing" to "holy God please cut off my toe" for the next few months.

When I was pregnant with my first child and had the "pain relief" discussion with various people, I remember being told numerous times how excruciatingly painful labor would be.  It's worst, it's horrifying... "just get the epidural now" someone said.  I had no doubt these women meant well, or that their experiences were painful, but somewhere in the far part of my brain I couldn't help but thinking "you end up with a baby, it's not superfluous, useless pain... can it really be that bad?"

We receive numerous perceptions of labor pain from our friends, families, and the media.  Unfortunately, our friends and families also receive these media images, and I have to wonder how much it affects how they viewed their pain, and subsequently how they interpreted it.  

(it is right here that I launch into my birth stories, and if you feel this is about to become TL:DR, click here)

From reading, I understood pitocin can make labor contractions more painful, and a majority of these women who were telling me what Hell childbirth was had been induced or augmented with pitocin.  But I still began to fret and worry.  Would I be able to handle this?  Can I do this?  Forget the fact that when the baby is here, I'm going to be responsible for the moral and physical well-being of a human being, or how do I breastfeed, or what about the cost of everything... this, the pain of labor, is the epitome of fear right now.  

Looking back - and maybe my view is skewed by the subsequent nine years of maturity and experience I've gained since then - I find myself questioning my own response and perception of labor pain.  I remember laboring with my first, not entirely sure where I was at or how long it was going to go on, strapped with an IV in my arm and feeling like a nuisance for asking for the birthing ball, or asking to walk around.  I remember worrying I wasn't responding "appropriately" to the pain I was feeling.  Should it be worse?  Is this the part where I'm supposed to start screaming?  God bless my husband and sister for sticking with me, because we were all in the same boat... we'd done the research on what to expect, but not how to handle it, how to process what was happening, and what to do instead of panic.  I didn't have to worry about pushing because he needed to get out, and by then I was relieved that I wouldn't have to deal with the pain of that. (Let's not go into the unknown pain of dealing with a c-section, that's another post).

With my second everything was different.  I nested like a madwoman the morning I went into labor.  I cleaned out everything - literally EVERYTHING - in my cupboards and fridge thinking I wasn't going to go into labor that day, or ever.  Why would I?  I wasn't dilated, barely effaced... the appointment was ticking down to my re-scheduled c-section, so I was almost resigned to the fact that my body didn't work properly. I should at least get ready for the baby by making sure the house is in "perfect condition" right?

Then, I went shopping.  I was at Target when my belly started to tighten.  Braxton-Hicks again ... *eye roll* ... BORING!  Even though they were rhythmic and patterned, I didn't care.  Whatever, I'm not in labor.  

I was at Wal-Mart in the cereal aisle when I finally accepted it, but not until after I had one of those textbook contractions.  The ones that take your breath away for a minute; the ones that everyone told you you'd finally get and then "you'll know" you're actually in labor.  Rather than pain, I felt excitement and nervousness as I hightailed it out of there and back home.  I called the doctor, expecting for some reason that they would either cheer, or react with shock at my announcement that I was in labor.  But instead I received very calm instructions to take a shower, lie down, stay home for a while.  All right, that's fine with me.  I'm not that excited about being strapped to that IV again so let's do this here.

I showered, I paced the house, I organized a bag, I arranged for child #1 to stay the night with Grandma and Grandpa... the whole time contracting regularly, stopping to breathe if the tightening of my belly became too much, but handling it with what I considered to be amazing strength.  Then, I decided to try laying down on the bed...

PAIN!  PAINPAINPAINPAINPAIN!  *struggles back to her feet* This is it, this is what they all talked about with the unbearable pain and torture.  I can't do this, ohgodIcan'ttoomuchpainwhat... wait a minute... I'm contracting again... and it's not unbearable...

My mind tried to process my bodies response to standing vs. lying down.  It was horrid a minute ago, well... maybe not horrid but more painful than this.  I can handle this...

I laid back down and waited for another one.  Same response:  PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN OH MY GOD PAIN!

It was at this point we left for the hospital, and I turned to my husband and started begging.  "Don't let them make me lie down, please... please don't let them make me lie down.  I don't want to lie down yet."  He nodded, a little baffled and confused by my response.  

In triage they told me I was 5 cm, and by the time they got me into a room I was at 7 cm.  I hadn't been forced to lay on my back yet.  They were hooking the IV into my arm while I was sitting on the very edge of the bed, upright and elated that I was ACTUALLY in labor, going for my VBAC, and so far it hadn't been horrible at all.  I'm awesome!

Then the nurse said "You're at 7.5, if you want drugs you better take them now," as she tried to guide me into laying down on the bed.

My husband (who I still love dearly) didn't do anything.  He didn't say "She doesn't want to lie down."  Just looked at me,  nervous and sheepish about "talking back" to the nurse.  I laid back against the pillows, and rather than sitting right back up and asserting my right to stand or at least sit-up since I hadn't had any pain medicine yet... I panicked.  I panicked because I knew what was coming.  More contractions while laying down, then the unbearable pain of transition, of pushing, of being stuck on my back with my feet behind my head while the baby I loved so much traveled painfully down the birth canal and into the world.  I panicked and begged for the drugs.

Looking back - more so now, but even after she was born - I questioned my perception and response to what happened.  My epidural kicked in, and I'd laid in bed for the next six hours laboring... getting stuck at 9.5 cm for five of those six hours.  I only fully reached 10 after my nurse checked me and said "Just start pushing, let's do this."  I felt no pain, just lots of pressure... and lots of waiting while trying to sleep.  I did feel pain during the delivery of the placenta, but that was after the epidural wore off, and they were pushing on my stomach.  No one in the room at that time gave me ANY guidance or suggestions on how to handle that pain.  In fact, they only time they addressed it was when I said "I'll push the baby out again, but you can take this thing by surgery... seriously... can you turn the epidural back up?"  This, unfortunately, resulted in me not being able to walk again for more hours.  Yay... I get to keep the catheter.  Yay... I can't stretch after lying here for so long... yay...

I've asked myself again and again, not questioning anyone else's thoughts or perceptions of pain, just mine... was it really that bad?  Did you need to beg, or if someone had been there to help you keep your sanity, could you have handled it?  Had you not had the epidural, maybe she would have been born quicker?  Would you would have been up and around sooner - or able to really sleep sooner?  Maybe if you would have just stayed calmer you could have breathed through it... or Hell, screamed through it if necessary.  How did you really feel about the pain?

Immediately, and I had done this with my first labor as well, I thought back to the broken toe.  That was gratuitous, unnecessary pain.  There was no purpose, it just hurt.  There was no logical reason for the pain other than my stupidity.  My broken toe hurt, and was stupid and useless.  And honestly, it hurt WAY WORSE than labor... even when I was laying down and contracting. That pain wasn't as bad as the broken toe.

What about the placenta? When they were pushing on you?

Yeah, that hurt pretty bad... but still not as bad as the toe.  There was no purpose for the toe pain.  Pushing on my uterus?  They were getting the placenta out.  The pain of contractions?  That was getting my baby out.  There was a purpose, it wasn't useless.

Then I made the list - which you can read if interested - of times I've been in worse pain than when laboring.  For me, it put a lot of things in perspective; and as I've started talking to other women, encouraging them to make engaged, informed choices when it comes to their labors, I've really begun analyzing the perception of pain.

I know numerous women who've been inducted, or augmented when their labor "slowed."  Some inductions were medically necessary, some of them were at a doctors suggestion because she'd gone - in his/her opinion - "too far" past her due date; some of them were personal choices of an elective induction.  Many of those who've elected induction admit pitocin contractions hurt worse than natural ones, but they've got the epidural on stand-by when it gets to be too much, and it's over when they want it over.  Some complained about the long labor, the pain from induction, and they'd never do it again.  Some said it was just easier to schedule a c-section.  Everyone has an opinion on it, and they are completely willing to share it to any first or second time mother who will listen, many times not considering how it will affect her choices, or color her perception of labor pain.

Let's take a moment and address a few universal facts about pregnancy, childbirth,  delivery and pain.  First, everyone agree that at one point in your pregnancy - I don't care if you are the most holistic, natural woman on earth, or if you are the kind that wants an epidural the second the pink line shows up on the stick - at one point you thought "This sucks."  Especially toward the end; around the 36-37th week.

You feel like you've swallowed a planet; you feel like a whale.  You can't sleep well, you can't walk well, you can't sit down comfortably.  You can't see your feet, let alone tie your shoes.  Showering is an adventure due to balance, and let's not even talk about trying to shave.  You might be swelling, you might have PUPPS, you might be sick... again.  You may be the most positive person on Earth, and feel great 90% of the time, but I know at one point every woman who's ever been pregnant has said to herself "Screw this, can it just be over?"

If you're thinking "Not me, I loved every minute,"... you are, in my opinion, a liar liar pants on fire.  Not to me, but to yourself.  Get over it; thinking the end of pregnancy (or any part of it) sucks doesn't make you a bad person/mother/holistic nature loving person... it makes you human.

But that above, that's just YOU.  Let's talk about the rest of the world and how they make pregnancy suck.  The doctor checking you and saying "You're not effaced at all" or "Oh, look your 70% effaced and 2cm dilated," yet not telling you that this, in the end, means NOTHING.  The people you work with... "Are you still pregnant?"  "Haven't you had that baby yet?"  "Oh, look how big you are!"  (We're all guilty of it, even me.  Sorry to all the pregnant women I've said that to.)

Your husband, God bless him... maybe he's clueless as to what to do.  The stupid house that won't clean itself; the laundry that keeps happening - Dear Lord, WHY does it keep happening?  Who keeps wearing all these clothes?!?!

Last universal fact - labor hurts.  Your uterus contracting, your cervix dilating... it hurts, there's no way around it.  Pushing a baby out through your vagina? That hurts too.  Delivering the placenta, breastfeeding, walking around, sitting, or trying to poop after delivery?  Yes, it all hurts; there's no way around it.

You know what else hurts?  A broken toe.  A sliver. A paper cut.  Lifting weights after you haven't exercised for a month.  Running.  Walking too long.  A sprained ankle.  A break-up.  Watching someone you love in any kind of pain... I could go on, but you get my point.

The difference between labor pain and other pain is that labor pain has a purpose.  It's natural; it's a part of life.  It's supposed to happen, it's how your body was designed to work.  You aren't supposed to break your toe, or sprain your ankle.  You should always work out, not take months off and then start up again.  Your heart isn't supposed to break when someone leaves you, but hey... things happen.  Labor pain has a purpose, it's your body's natural response to a natural event.  It's useful; there isn't anything useful about the pain associated with a broken toe.

Labor pain is natural.  It's not a medical condition; it's not abnormal, unless it's been augmented by hormones.  Since it's natural and useful, maybe if you change your perception of it, you can handle it when given the proper guidance and support.

When I hear someone talk about their fear of labor, my heart aches for them.  It's awful to be afraid of anything, but being afraid of an unavoidable event that you want to happen... psychologically it feels counter-productive, which makes the fear, and guilt from fear, even worse.

My advice in the past has been to calm down, breathe, educate yourself and know that pain relief is always an option if you need it.  There's no shame in that at all.  But I've also said to wait for it, to not get induced if you don't need to.  I know, it's hard to be pregnant at the end, it's hard to be overdue... you want to meet the little person abusing your ribs and give them numerous kisses, you want to take them home... you want the pregnancy to be over.  But be patient.  Coming from the most impatient person on Earth (me), your body knows what to do and will do it when it and your baby are ready.  Keep in touch with your doctors/midwife, and trust your body.

Now, that I'm aware they exist and what they can do, if I hear someone mention how afraid they are of labor and the pain, I say find a Doula.  Find a group of them.  Find anyone who can help you keep your wits intact to deal with not only the pain, but the fear of it.  The more anxious you are, the more pain you will be in. Your spouse, your family, a doula, a best friend... anyone other than the nurses (not because they aren't capable, because they're busy) who can help you stay sane will make the pain so much easier to deal with.

We can't avoid pain while we're in our human bodies, it's impossible.  But we can control our response to it.  We can control our perception of it - and we are able influence how others perceive it.

If you are pregnant and reading this, or if you have been pregnant or ever will be pregnant, or KNOW someone who will be pregnant... before you start analyzing, or panicking, over how to handle the pain of childbirth, take a breath and step back.  Think about the reasons for it, the process of birth, the miracle it is... and go from there.  Don't think of pregnancy as a condition, think of it as a miracle with a purpose - yes, a painful one, but who said that miracles were pain-free?  And who says it has to be the worst pain ever?

And ladies, gentlemen, doctors, nurses, media... everyone... before you add your two cents to the pot about how horrible the pain of childbirth is, think about what you want to pass on to the person you're speaking to.  Do you want to frighten them?  Scare them out of going through labor?  Too late for that.  Do you want to discourage them?  Or do you want to encourage them, offer them advice, and support their confidence rather than fear?  There are too many other things in life that are pointlessly painful; let's not continue turning birth into one of those things.