This book disappointed and depressed me. It had so much promise yet wound up feeling like just yet another example of how all discourse on motherhood needs to be a zero sum game, where no women get permission to make their own choices without some other group of women being put down.
I'm kind of not sure why I picked it up in the first place, since I am definitely done having babies (unless we are about to enter some horrific Handmaid's Tale dystopia -- highly likely -- in which they draft elderly women into involuntary reproduction -- thankfully less likely, so I'm probably safe). I guess I do know, actually: it's because I hate "attachment parenting" and am angry that it exists as a construct and wanted to have my personal views affirmed by an outside source, and because I'm still kind of trying to process my exposure to all the natural childbirth stuff and my own experience with contemporary childbirth culture surrounding the birth of my two kids (now eight months and two-and-a-half).
What was disappointing was that I agreed with a lot of what Tuteur wrote, but the way she said it was just so shitty and condescending. That echoes one of her points that I agree with the most: that as with anorexia, current bourgie American natural childbirth mores demonstrate how even some of the most privileged women who have ever existed in time or space must suffer and be made to feel miserable and inadequate, often by other women.
Where to start? Well, there were a lot of things I did like about this book. As I mentioned, attachment parenting really upsets me, and since I've always wondered how that idea developed from the Winnicott I remembered from social work school (whose contribution I've always recalled as the infinitely more helpful "good-enough mother") I was glad to see that explained here. And I've never liked those creepy Sears people who kept telling me I was evil to eat sugar while pregnant, so it was vindicating to see them unmasked as malevolent religious fanatics. I've been saying this whole time that attachment parenting and this intense breastfeeding push were both antifeminist plots, so it was kind of nice to see someone who agrees with me provide historical evidence to argue that.
So I guess I can't talk about my response to this book without reference to my own experience. I read a slew of natural childbirth books while I was pregnant with my first kid, and they scared the shit out of me. I read Ina May Gaskin. I hired a doula. I fretted about the hospital. I wound up, with that kid and the second, being extremely lucky and having very easy, unmedicated labors during which I stayed at home until what felt like the very last minute, then both times gave birth without complications or interventions within an hour of arriving at the public hospital in Miami. I feel really fortunate for these experiences, though the hospital part kind of sucked (especially the second time).
So I had positive experiences with unmedicated labor, breastfed both babies without incident and then, due to life circumstance rather than original intent, have been more or less stuck home with my kids, which pretty clearly puts me in the camp of pathetic anti-feminist bourgie ladies who should be out doing something important, like being an obstetrician. I do not sleep in a bed with my children and never have. I do own a product that attaches my baby to my body, which I often but certainly not always prefer over the stroller for practical reasons (hands free, can do stairs). I believe vaccines are among the greatest inventions of modern times. This book report is the closest thing I've done to mommy blogging. I don't think I'm exactly the natural-parenting moron Tuteur has in mind, but I guess I must be enough of one that this book did make me defensive.
The problem is that rather than get into some nuance and actual grey areas, Tuteur sets up strawmen (or straw-midwives) and is only interested in extremes. I understand that, because childbirth right now is a bizarrely polarized topic, and also because those extreme wingnuts that she cites do exist. I have seen them firsthand online, which is why I learned early not to google anything baby-related... Note to new moms: DO NOT ASK THE INTERNET ANY SLEEP QUESTIONS! Those message boards are dominated by demented sadists who will tell you that crying will damage your infant's brain... which is to say, I get it, I do, it's very ugly out there. But still.
Tuteur, being a doctor, is offended, appalled, and baffled that any woman of sound mind wouldn't embrace the full-on medicalized hospital birth with open arms. In fact, if they don't, those women are silly, entitled, selfish fools who want to relish masochistically in a trivial "experience" they're probably only allowed to have because they and their mothers were prevented from gory deaths by advances in the very branch of medicine they now abhor. The thing is, in her airy effort to dismiss any anti-medical witchery, Tuteur elides the reality that there in fact aspects of the hospital birth experience that women might reasonably wish to avoid. I have personally have a (male, older) ob-gyn tell me to my face that if people want to reduce unnecessary c-sections, they need to "make it worth our while" by changing the way doctors are reimbursed. That is reality. Getting yelled at and pressured by mean, tired nurses to take drugs you don't want is also reality. Having at least ten people you've never met before gathered around your gaping vagina screaming at you to push while your feet are in stirrups and you're bathed in fluorescent light and rigged to beeping machines does not seem like the best or only possible way to give birth, but it is reality. The reason I do share my own "birth story," despite knowing that's obnoxious, is that all the stories I'd heard while pregnant involved medical interventions or levels of suffering I found terrifying, and I seriously doubted that it was possible to give birth without either -- or more likely, both, because the ubiquity of those experiences is real.
Another thing that's real, for me, is feeling that childbirth was a meaningful experience for me, and I don't think that makes me a bad feminist. For me the major appeal of Gaskin and her ilk was that all I heard from the medical people was about what could go wrong, and how childbirth was a hazardous and awful experience. Now, I totally get this, and it's pretty obviously the major point of disagreement between Tuteur and her enemies: yes, things can go wrong, horribly. To deny or minimize that is both unethical and insane. I could have done without Tuteur's graphic example of a newborn's skull being crushed by forceps, but I guess this isn't simple fearmongering but an illustration of her central point: that childbirth is very dangerous. At one point she writes, "Claiming that 'pregnancy is not a disease' is like claiming that a gunshot is not a disease, and thus you should be allowed to heal unhindered."
Uh, wait, what? Okay so that really does seem to be how doctors see pregnancy (especially for elderly women like me), but to my mind pregnancy and childbirth are nothing like a gunshot; they are much more like riding a motorcycle. That is, they are inherently highly risky, but there are precautions one can take to make them somewhat less so, and each woman should decide which degree of risk she's willing to accept.
Personally, I would never ride a motorcycle without a helmet, but unlike many wiser people I would ride a motorcycle (and did, until I got pregnant and no longer found that risk acceptable). I think according to Tuteur's logic, staying at home until you are ready to give birth is probably a selfish, speeding-around-twisties behavior, since if there had been some problem during labor that would have been detected by a fetal monitor, it could have been missed; I'm not sure what she'd say. I can see a lot of selfish, arguably risky choices in my own preference for an unmedicated vaginal birth. I was very, very scared of having a c-section, in some small part because of the guilt-inducing natural childbirth literature, but mostly because I didn't want to have major abdominal surgery if I didn't need to. I didn't want to have an epidural for similar reasons: because I'd read about the cascade of effects Tuteur is so dismissive of, even while she briefly acknowledges that an epidural can make it difficult or impossible to push, and is much handier for a c-section. Having a baby vaginally is taxing enough on a woman's body; surgery? That sucks! The recovery time is much longer and there's a lot that can go wrong. I feel like she made it sound like efforts to achieve a vaginal birth are all part of some deluded, sad effort by overprivileged competitive women who don't know anything about science, and as if the only reason not to have a c-section is that the other women in your pumpkin-spice latte book club will shame you if you do your birth "wrong," and I find that patronizing.
I guess it's important to acknowledge that this book wasn't for me, because I did have a surprisingly (well, I was surprised) easy time with unmedicated vaginal delivery and breastfeeding, which leaves me in the minority among new mothers I know, who are primarily college-educated white women of economic privilege in their mid-thirties, i.e., the demographic described in Tuteur's book. And one of the reasons I was interested in reading this is because I did want something to recommend to any friends, going forward, to counteract all this pervasive hogwash out there about how you need to have a "natural" birth and breastfeed and then crucify yourself nightly with organic asparagus for your spawn. I already experience a ton of guilt about my innumerable failures as a mother despite having met the natural childbirth criteria, and I know I'd like to have more ammunition to counter those prevailing cultural trends, especially when I see someone I love agonizing about the prospect that she might need to poison her baby with -- horror of horrors! -- formula, or commit some other cardinal sin.
Another place I agree with Tuteur is that that is such bullshit, and she's absolutely right that there is this sick culture of guilt and competition that makes women feel bad if they don't do that stuff. Honey! If you want an epidural, get a damn epidural! Personally, I did not want one because mobility was more important to me than pain management, at least in theory, and I was so scared of surgery, and OBVIOUSLY, MAINLY because I had a very short labor with no complications. But I knew going into it that the drugs were an option that were available and that if things didn't go just how I wanted, I was going to take whatever I could get. And I think it's absolutely disgusting that anyone is bullied into feeling otherwise. That is why they made drugs in the first place, to have on hand at times just like these!
I have also seen women go to insane lengths over this breastfeeding business, and I secretly consider insane lengths to include pumping at work when the kid is over six months. Pumping is industrial dairy cow torture... and when I see people having problems with breastfeeding for whatever reason, going through all that pain and trouble, I feel like there must be something wrong with the gold stars we've plastered all over breastmilk. The main reason to breastfeed is ease and convenience, so if it's not easy or convenient, the hell with it. (The main reason NOT to breastfeed, in the absence of such obstacles, is that it is honestly staggering the extent to which this makes you not just the primary but kind of the only parent. I completely failed to grasp the implications of this before I started, and I wish we could have a reasonable conversation about the involved issues of capitalism and feminism, which is what I was hoping for from this book but didn't find in a substantive way.) I mean, look at all those Baby Boomers stomping around. I don't think most of them ever tasted breastmilk, and as a generation they turned out mighty hale and hearty, don't you think? To a large extent I agree with Tuteur that lactation consultants can be the WORST, since I heard the ones at the hospital make the most ignorant, judgmental, coercive pronouncements; this is a place where I found the anti-feminism she describes to be very pronounced. However, her descriptions of midwives and doulas I felt painted with an overly broad brush. I hired a doula because I didn't have friends or family where I lived and was terrified of the hospital, and she turned out to be completely unnecessary but she was certainly not this manipulative she-devil of the type Tuteur describes, and I'm sure would've been totally supportive of whatever decisions I might've made. There is a lot more nuance in this world than she sees, and I think she doesn't want to see it because she's fundamentally dismissive of the desire the natural childbirth industry is responding to.
As I mentioned above (I have to assume no one's reading anymore; I'm killing this bottle of wine and bag of Trader Joe's trail mix, please forgive me if you're still there), the medical model is focused on brain-dead babies and absolutely everything terrible that could possibly go wrong. Push Back catalogues how dangerous childbirth used to be (can't argue with that, obviously) and extensively details how much childbirth and breastfeeding both just totally suck.
Here's what I think she doesn't get: women don't want to feel like childbirth and breastfeeding just totally suck. Tuteur is very, very down on the "biological essentialism" of the natural childbirth industry, but you know what? That view is very compelling to a pregnant/postpartum woman. You know why? Because being a woman, even today, even if you're an extraordinarily privileged one, compared to being a man, pretty much sucks, and it always has. And the main reason it sucks is this whole childbearing thing, and everything that's attached to that... and so the doctors come along and they're like, "Yes, this is terrible. Your position in society is lesser, your biology screws you, and now you need to do this dreadful dangerous thing, ugh, and you might die and your baby might too, so we'll hook you up to these machines and scream into your vagina and do scary things and it'll all be over soon if you only do all that we say" but then the midwives et al. are like, "No actually having babies is completely amazing, and you're going to have this thrilling and revelatory experience that'll make you realize being a woman doesn't just totally suck after all, in fact it's magical and great" and that latter sounds much better, infinitely more appealing, especially when you are all jacked up with a growing creature inside your body wrecking it forever.
And you know what else? I think they're right. I think they're right and I think Tuteur misses why women are attracted to what they're selling because she think women who buy it are just dumb. And okay, a lot of us are dumb (especially the anti-vaxxers), but actually there is something there.
I read Ina May Gaskin's book and I thought she was a kook, but it did help me. It helped me because before that point, I'd really felt like I'd gotten myself into this impossible situation that only a lot of luck and some incomprehensible medical science could get me out of, and I was really scared. But then she, and all those other MacBeth-style witches, were like, "No, actually this is what your body was made to do," and that encouragement really helped me a lot, even if it isn't strictly evidence-based or peer-reviewed.
And actually, giving birth helped me a lot. I feel like so much of my life has been about taking note of ways that men are inherently better or more advantaged than me. After I had my first baby, I went back to my boxing gym where I was basically the only woman, and I looked at things in such a different way than I ever had before. I'd always felt weaker, but for the first time I knew I was actually stronger, and I just silently laughed at all the men thinking they were so tough with their big muscles and dumb games. For me, knowing I'd gone through labor and pushed a baby out had shown that to me. If I'd had surgery, I would've felt that demonstrated it even more. Tuteur thinks being unscientific and irrational and essentialist about this stuff shows you're weak-minded and buying a crap bill of goods, but I don't think so. I think childbirth and rearing has a meaning for many women that the New Agey hoo-hah types tap into, and I don't think it's all dumb, I think that need for meaning is real, and I think it compensates in a significant way for losses women feel in other areas of their lives (I do understand her argument that this can be a problem insofar as it recenters motherhood as the center of women's lives at the expense of other things, a real issue I'm dealing with in my own life so I'll need to get back to you on that). I also think childbirth is a legitimately significant event for many women, even if it's been problematically fetishized in certain circles.
Okay, so this has certainly gone on long enough. If anyone's still reading this, I apologize; I don't get out much these days.
Despite being massively turned off by her condescending and dismissive tone, I might recommend this book to pregnant women or new mothers who are being bullied or just overly saturated by a lot of "natural childbirth" malarky, especially if it's left you feeling bad about anything you are or not doing or might in the future do or not do. It's true that there are weird, culty cottage industries built around this stuff, and it's also true that these issues seem to bring out the worst instincts in women (I think because we are all so insecure and stressed about our own failings as moms, so tend to double down on what we're doing and deride what we're not). Remember that drugs can be great, safety comes first, and formula is not poison. Crying doesn't cause brain damage. Internet message boards are not helpful; if you need advice about your horrible screaming baby, ask an older person: their solution will be much less labor intensive. Do not ask your friends, especially if they live in California or Brooklyn. Also, don't worry too much about childbirth: it doesn't last long in the grand scheme of things. The hard part comes later. Finally: don't beat yourself up. Really. The world will do enough of that, because one of the only groups that gets more shit than women from all quarters is... mothers. And the sharpest critics are their peers, so pretty much just do what you feel, get as much help as you can, and try not to buy too much junk you don't need.