Looks like we're all over the place when it comes to boys and birth.
After watching the Internet's first live birth, I asked if you'd be OK with your son watching a birth. All in all, we're in favor of it: 28% said 'Yes, definitely," while another 21 % said your son has already seen a birth. An additional 14% have seen a birth on TV.
I myself fall into the fuzzy "Yes, theorectically" category (21%). Let me explain. While I have no problem whatsoever with my boys being exposed to the realities of birth -- and indeed have already looked at some pretty wonderful pictures with the boys -- I answered from the perspective of a mom considering having her sons at her next birth. (Full disclosure: I am most definitely not pregnant.)
I'm pretty liberal in my birthing beliefs. I'm all about natural childbirth and labor support, and fully believe that birth is a natural part of life. My last two children were born at Wisconsin's first free-standing birth center; if I'd lived closer, I would have seriously considered having Boy #4 at home.
But. I know my boys, and I know myself. I know that I can hardly think sometimes when they're in the room. I know that it is next-to-impossible for me to release my sense of responsibility to them. And I know that when I'm in labor, I need to concentrate. So ultimately, although I love the idea of kids being present at birth to welcome their newest sibling, I concluded that having my boys around during an actual labor and birth would be far too stressful for me. For me; you may feel differently.
I also know my boys, and I know that sitting quietly (or even in a relatively subdued manner) is not their thing. While our birth center features a fabulous family room, complete with TV, DVD player and games, I knew my boys would quickly tire of the whole thing. My boys, I concluded, would be more comfortable at home.
And that's where a home birth comes in. If I'd labored at home, if I had someone around to watch, look out for and otherwise run interference with my boys, I would have welcomed my sons at their brothers' births. At home, they would have been free to do what they do -- to sleep, run, play -- while not being excluded from an event central to the life of our family.
Ultimately, the decision of whether or not to have your son view a birth is highly individual. You have to consider your son, your personality and your resources. For a great article about kids and birth, click here.
Meanwhile, I'd love to hear your stories. If your son witnessed one of your births, what did he think? If he saw one on TV, what did he say? And if you answered, no, you'd rather not let your son watch a birth, why?
Showing posts with label live birth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label live birth. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Birth & Babies
I just can't stop thinking about it.
Last night, I stayed up way too late to watch the Internet's first live birth. Twenty-three-year-old Lynsee and her husband agreed to live stream their birth the Gannett-run social networking site, MomsLikeMe.com. (As of right now, the video is still up.)
I learned about the birth on Twitter. I watched the action with an amazing group of women -- doulas, midwives, mothers and self-proclaimed birth junkies. The conversation continues today.
When I tuned in, Lynsee was laboring on the bed, on her knees, leaning up and over a birthball. She was doing beautifully. A bit later, she was in the tub, lights down, relaxing music on. I saw a woman in that sacred, private space that is labor. It was amazing.
Then she said she was tired, over and over again. She said she knew it was going to get worse and expressed doubt about her ability to cope with any more. Ultimately, she asked for -- and received -- an epidural.
This is where the conversation gets interesting. Some, today, are wondering how Lynsee will feel if/when she looks back on the Internet and sees criticism of her choices. But on Twitter, I didn't see criticism of her choices. I saw and heard a community of concerned women -- women who are themselves mothers, midwives and doulas -- screaming, HELP HER!
If you've had a baby before (and I'll assume you have, since you're reading a blog about raising boys), you know that labor gets rough. You know that it's a consuming, all-encompassing process. And you know that it's perfectly normal to wonder if you're up to the task. (Read my labor stories here.)
If you've studied birth at all, you may also know that "I'm tired" and "I can't do this anymore" are classic emotional signs of transition. And sure enough, Lynsee was 7 cm dilated just after her epidural.
What I heard on the Internet last night was not criticism of Lynsee's choices, but a community of women who wanted to reach through the screen and tell her, "You're doing great! You're DOING this, Lynsee. The baby is almost here."
No one in the room, though, told her those things during her moment of self-doubt. No one checked her prior to the epidural, or reassured her that she was almost done, that she was coping beautifully. Instead, they placed the epidural, chatted while the tired mom should have been resting and took her baby away just when the baby was beginning to root for milk.
I didn't hear criticism of Lynsee. I heard sadness, sadness that so few women today believe they can labor. That so few women have the support they really need as the bring new life into the world. Sadness, that despite our years of collective maternal wisdom, our voices are being silenced.
Women know how to have babies -- and we need to be free to share our thoughts with the world.
Thank you, Lynsee, for starting an important dialogue.
What do you think? Did you watch the live birth? Do you think the comments crossed the line into personal criticism?
Last night, I stayed up way too late to watch the Internet's first live birth. Twenty-three-year-old Lynsee and her husband agreed to live stream their birth the Gannett-run social networking site, MomsLikeMe.com. (As of right now, the video is still up.)
I learned about the birth on Twitter. I watched the action with an amazing group of women -- doulas, midwives, mothers and self-proclaimed birth junkies. The conversation continues today.
When I tuned in, Lynsee was laboring on the bed, on her knees, leaning up and over a birthball. She was doing beautifully. A bit later, she was in the tub, lights down, relaxing music on. I saw a woman in that sacred, private space that is labor. It was amazing.
Then she said she was tired, over and over again. She said she knew it was going to get worse and expressed doubt about her ability to cope with any more. Ultimately, she asked for -- and received -- an epidural.
This is where the conversation gets interesting. Some, today, are wondering how Lynsee will feel if/when she looks back on the Internet and sees criticism of her choices. But on Twitter, I didn't see criticism of her choices. I saw and heard a community of concerned women -- women who are themselves mothers, midwives and doulas -- screaming, HELP HER!
If you've had a baby before (and I'll assume you have, since you're reading a blog about raising boys), you know that labor gets rough. You know that it's a consuming, all-encompassing process. And you know that it's perfectly normal to wonder if you're up to the task. (Read my labor stories here.)
If you've studied birth at all, you may also know that "I'm tired" and "I can't do this anymore" are classic emotional signs of transition. And sure enough, Lynsee was 7 cm dilated just after her epidural.
What I heard on the Internet last night was not criticism of Lynsee's choices, but a community of women who wanted to reach through the screen and tell her, "You're doing great! You're DOING this, Lynsee. The baby is almost here."
No one in the room, though, told her those things during her moment of self-doubt. No one checked her prior to the epidural, or reassured her that she was almost done, that she was coping beautifully. Instead, they placed the epidural, chatted while the tired mom should have been resting and took her baby away just when the baby was beginning to root for milk.
I didn't hear criticism of Lynsee. I heard sadness, sadness that so few women today believe they can labor. That so few women have the support they really need as the bring new life into the world. Sadness, that despite our years of collective maternal wisdom, our voices are being silenced.
Women know how to have babies -- and we need to be free to share our thoughts with the world.
Thank you, Lynsee, for starting an important dialogue.
What do you think? Did you watch the live birth? Do you think the comments crossed the line into personal criticism?
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