What is most sad about this Debra Pickett column is that her sentiments are so common:
For the women of the late '60s-early '70s Lamaze era, grueling labor
stories were the key to establishing one's status as a martyr. So even
if you stashed your little one in a plastic playpen while having a
cigarette and a nice, long gossip with your neighbor, you could still
claim the moral high ground of motherhood by invoking the 36-hour-long
labor you endured with only deep breathing and a reluctantly
enlightened husband to dull the pain.
In the age of the epidural and the scheduled C-section, such horror stories are passe.
And
There's a new way to measure your maternal bona fides, one that
makes natural childbirth seem like a walk in the park. Because, really,
what's one day of sweating and suffering when compared to a whole
year's worth of pain and inconvenience? If you want to be considered a good mother in today's playpen-free
culture of hyper-involved parenting, you must enter the world of
competitive breast-feeding.
I've experienced both unmedicated labor and multi-year breastfeeding, and I would never use words like "horror" or "pain" to describe them. Quite honestly, they are two of the best experiences of my life.
I've given birth with and without painkillers, and were I ever blessed with the choice again, I'd absolutely choose to skip the drugs. Birth pain is manageable, and opportunity to feel your baby moving to be born is so . . . . rare and precious. After my unmedicated birth, I felt strong, superpower strong. And it was delightful to hold my new baby while in full control of all my faculties. I read somewhere a description of birth as "seeing a magician pulling a
baby out of a hat." For me, both births were magical, but for the
epidural birth I felt more like the hat. For the drug-free birth, I was the magician.
Don't get me wrong--epidurals, c-sections, etc., are a godsend for women who need them, and even with an uncomplicated birth, many women choose pain-relieving medication for good reasons. But that doesn't make the alternative a "horror story."
Same with breastfeeding--formula is a blessing for babies who need it, and many moms have good reasons for choosing formula. But breastfeeding as "a year's worth of pain and inconvenience?" No way. With breastfeeding, you get an excuse to sit and cuddle your baby no matter what else needs to be done. With breastfeeding, you get frequent unmistakeable reassurance that no one can replace you. With breastfeeding, you get to feel extra proud every time your baby gains an ounce. With breastfeeding, you get a terrific soothing method that doesn't need to be lugged around in a diaper bag and can't be forgotten in your rush out the door. Sure, it has its awkward moments, . . . but overall--suffering it's not.
Debra Pickett's a great writer and I'm sure she'll be a great mom. New moms like her would be better off, though, if positive birth stories had as much currency as the negative ones. (Though rereading the above, I'll be the first to admit that her post on this topic is way more entertaining than mine!)
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