Babble

a magazine and community for the new urban parent

 

In the 1980s, women who enjoyed more social, political and economic power than any previous generation decided breathing techniques (and painful birth) were not for everyone, and the newest pain relief method, the epidural, began to replace natural birth for most American women. During this time, roughly 22 percent of American women used an epidural during childbirth. By 1992, that rate more than doubled. Today, on many busy maternity units, 80 to 90 percent of women choose an epidural for pain relief. According to a recent study in the journal Anesthesiology, only 6 percent of women in large hospitals and 12 percent in small hospitals opted for drug-free births.

In other words, there is a significant gap between how women are It's hard to deny that birth is over-medicalized. prepared to give birth by childbirth professionals and how women choose to give birth once they reach the delivery room. It seems that the more women choose medication, the more vocal becomes the anti-medical movement. The more popular epidurals become, the louder grows the voice insisting women are passing up an opportunity for personal growth and spiritual enrichment.

It's hard to deny that birth is over-medicalized. Our nation's C-section rate is 30 percent and rising. Labor induction (artificially starting labor before it begins on its own) has doubled since 1989. And I don't care how much of your hospital's budget was spent revamping their maternity unit to look like your favorite small luxury hotel, just try to help yourself to something in the fridge when you feel hungry during labor; you will quickly be reminded you are in an institution.

But pain relief is not the culprit. These are care issues that have to do with how physicians practice, how legal threats loom and how big institutions can't seem to deliver comfort — even with pretty new wallpaper and lots of big pillows.

Contrary to the suggestion made by its opponents, the epidural is not an unnecessary medical intervention that deprives women of satisfaction and empowerment while giving birth. Moreover, telling pregnant women they should attempt to deal with their pain as an exercise in "plumbing the depths of their inner resources," rather than honoring their choice to give birth on their own terms, without pain, is in itself disempowering.

It is true that if you want an epidural, or a narcotic drip, or any other form of medical pain relief during labor, you will wind up hooked up to a lot of wires: most likely an IV, a Foley catheter and two belts around your waist — one to monitor the baby, one to monitor your contractions. Your blood pressure may dip. You may feel itchy. You may spike a fever. But, here is the great big On The Other Hand: You will not be experiencing mind-blowing pain. It was not until the torture ended that I was able to connect with the joy.

Ultimately, I found Maureen's description of childbirth as "living hell" to be similar to my own (only when I describe it, I use more expletives). I walked, squatted, used hydrotherapy and massage, but labor was an agony that wrenched my body for hours until I was finally "ready" for the relief provided, almost instantly, by an epidural. It was not until the torture ended that I was able to connect with the joy and excitement of knowing I was about to finally meet my daughter.

I don't doubt that, for some women, natural childbirth provides an emotional boost that is powerful and gratifying. But for me, giving birth was the fulfillment of a lifelong wish to have a baby, not a means of self-actualization. The real adventure began when I became a parent.