When Someone Wants To Tell You Their Birth Story
Having a pregnant belly or even sharing the news of expecting is sometimes seen as an invitation; an invitation to touch where the baby is, an invitation to share their feelings about your pregnancy and ability to parent, an invitation to offer advice, and an invitation to share their own birth story or the birth story of their partner, mother, best friend, third cousin, coworker, estranged family member, et cetera.
Some of you, however, might actually be asking for that information; “I just want to know what I’m in for,” you explain to me. “I want to know as much as I possibly can so I can avoid surprises and mistakes and stress.” I mean, if it worked like that, then we’d probably be in a different spot as a culture, as a community, as a society, but alas here we are but where we are is all good.
Regardless of whether you’re seeking this information or it’s being given to you, birth stories or experiences while pregnant and with a newborn are readily shared and readily available. Of course as a doula I get told all the stories all the time and I’m happy to hold space with it, but no part of my brain is imagining me going through any of it, no part of my brain is lighting up with fear or excitement -- I mean, those are the ideals but I do my absolute best to focus on offering a compassionate ear and some breathing room as they process their experience.
But you, my dear love, may or may not be visualizing yourself in that situation, replacing yourself with the person who’s telling the story as if you were the protagonist, trying to imagine what that must have been like. As this person shares more and more of their birth story, the story becomes more and more real and this absolutely can leave emotional, mental and even physical imprints. What do I mean by imprints? I mean that you might get hot, you might get cold, your mouth might get dry, you might get lightheaded, you might feel your skin crawl, you might get sick to your stomach -- you may begin to *feel* this experience as your own and now your body has taken on part of the vicarious trauma of that thing that was supposed to be a ‘story’. It was supposed to help you learn, know more, know better and now you’re left with a visceral reaction to any mention of the word ‘induction’, ‘baby’s heart rate’ or ‘cesarean’.
Those words might already make you uneasy but my hope for you is that throughout your pregnancy and nearer labour that those words hold less power, and the way that I actively doing that with you is making sure that you’re not afraid of anything and one way that you can help me that is how you respond to someone wanting to share some experience of pregnancy, labour or having a newborn with you.
The first step before someone tells you or if you realize that you’re in the thick of one, is to take a big exhale. Feel your feet on the floor, feel your bum on the chair, your back on the backrest, your hands on your knees or holding whatever they might be carrying. Get really grounded in your body and check your emotions physically. Another big exhale. Remind yourself that you’re safe and if you’re feeling anxious, uneasy, uncomfortable, afraid, worried somewhere in your body then ask the person to stop for a moment.
When you ask them to stop, this is what I’d want you to say, “I’m really interested in learning from your experience of birth, but I was wondering if you would be able to share what you would have done differently in hindsight rather than telling me exactly what happened.”
And if you’re not feeling physically or emotionally involved in their story, then once their finished you would say, “Thanks so much for sharing. I’m really interested in learning from your experience of birth; now that it’s all over and looking back, what would you have done differently?”
And then you’re going to get the gold. This is when I encourage you to listen to what they’re saying, listen to what their body is telling you, really look into their eyes and see them.
I’m a huge believer and proponent of the idea that on paper there’s no ‘bad’ birth experience. A cesarean can be infinitely more empowering than a waterbirth if the attendants don’t treat the birther with the respect they deserve. A forceps delivery can be incredibly gentle and reverent, an ‘emergency’ cesarean can feel safe and slow.
So in my mind, the events themselves in someone’s birth story don’t matter, but rather how they felt about it all, and how they felt about and within themselves, as it was happening. So I encourage you to not listen to what happened, listened to what feelings that created for them and to be honest you’ll probably find a couple themes if it’s a negative experience; they felt like they lost control and didn’t understand what was happening or why it was happening, and shame about the decisions they did or didn’t make. These pain points, as terrible as they are now, is the important information for a birther. If someone’s birth story leaves you wanting to avoid an induction and they tell you they wish they would have waited, then the gold in that isn’t that inductions are bad but rather make sure you’re really ready before you commit. If someone’s birth story leaves you fearful about baby’s heart rate dropping and they tell you that it was because of the epidural, then explore the idea of potentially avoiding an epidural or coming to peace that it’s a side effect and possibility if you choose the epidural route.
Birth stories themselves aren’t bad; I personally love them, but I’m also not pregnant and I’ve been to a lot of births so I know that a lot of things are common, normal, and to be totally transparent and blunt, what I see play out is often not what the families remember because it didn’t feel that way for them.
So remember the magic question back when you’re speaking to someone who’s sharing with you, “Thanks so much for sharing that all with me. Now that I know what happened at your birth, what decisions do you wish you had done differently? Is there a way any of it could have felt better? If these exact same things happen to me, what would your advice be?”
And then put your listening ears on. And then text me afterwards and we can work through some of it together too.
Having a pregnant belly or even sharing the news of expecting is sometimes seen as an invitation; an invitation to touch where the baby is, an invitation to share their feelings about your pregnancy and ability to parent, an invitation to offer advice, and an invitation to share their own birth story or the birth story of their partner, mother, best friend, third cousin, coworker, estranged family member, et cetera.
Some of you, however, might actually be asking for that information; “I just want to know what I’m in for,” you explain to me. “I want to know as much as I possibly can so I can avoid surprises and mistakes and stress.” I mean, if it worked like that, then we’d probably be in a different spot as a culture, as a community, as a society, but alas here we are but where we are is all good.
Regardless of whether you’re seeking this information or it’s being given to you, birth stories or experiences while pregnant and with a newborn are readily shared and readily available. Of course as a doula I get told all the stories all the time and I’m happy to hold space with it, but no part of my brain is imagining me going through any of it, no part of my brain is lighting up with fear or excitement -- I mean, those are the ideals but I do my absolute best to focus on offering a compassionate ear and some breathing room as they process their experience.
But you, my dear love, may or may not be visualizing yourself in that situation, replacing yourself with the person who’s telling the story as if you were the protagonist, trying to imagine what that must have been like. As this person shares more and more of their birth story, the story becomes more and more real and this absolutely can leave emotional, mental and even physical imprints. What do I mean by imprints? I mean that you might get hot, you might get cold, your mouth might get dry, you might get lightheaded, you might feel your skin crawl, you might get sick to your stomach -- you may begin to *feel* this experience as your own and now your body has taken on part of the vicarious trauma of that thing that was supposed to be a ‘story’. It was supposed to help you learn, know more, know better and now you’re left with a visceral reaction to any mention of the word ‘induction’, ‘baby’s heart rate’ or ‘cesarean’.
Those words might already make you uneasy but my hope for you is that throughout your pregnancy and nearer labour that those words hold less power, and the way that I actively doing that with you is making sure that you’re not afraid of anything and one way that you can help me that is how you respond to someone wanting to share some experience of pregnancy, labour or having a newborn with you.
The first step before someone tells you or if you realize that you’re in the thick of one, is to take a big exhale. Feel your feet on the floor, feel your bum on the chair, your back on the backrest, your hands on your knees or holding whatever they might be carrying. Get really grounded in your body and check your emotions physically. Another big exhale. Remind yourself that you’re safe and if you’re feeling anxious, uneasy, uncomfortable, afraid, worried somewhere in your body then ask the person to stop for a moment.
When you ask them to stop, this is what I’d want you to say, “I’m really interested in learning from your experience of birth, but I was wondering if you would be able to share what you would have done differently in hindsight rather than telling me exactly what happened.”
And if you’re not feeling physically or emotionally involved in their story, then once their finished you would say, “Thanks so much for sharing. I’m really interested in learning from your experience of birth; now that it’s all over and looking back, what would you have done differently?”
And then you’re going to get the gold. This is when I encourage you to listen to what they’re saying, listen to what their body is telling you, really look into their eyes and see them.
I’m a huge believer and proponent of the idea that on paper there’s no ‘bad’ birth experience. A cesarean can be infinitely more empowering than a waterbirth if the attendants don’t treat the birther with the respect they deserve. A forceps delivery can be incredibly gentle and reverent, an ‘emergency’ cesarean can feel safe and slow.
So in my mind, the events themselves in someone’s birth story don’t matter, but rather how they felt about it all, and how they felt about and within themselves, as it was happening. So I encourage you to not listen to what happened, listened to what feelings that created for them and to be honest you’ll probably find a couple themes if it’s a negative experience; they felt like they lost control and didn’t understand what was happening or why it was happening, and shame about the decisions they did or didn’t make. These pain points, as terrible as they are now, is the important information for a birther. If someone’s birth story leaves you wanting to avoid an induction and they tell you they wish they would have waited, then the gold in that isn’t that inductions are bad but rather make sure you’re really ready before you commit. If someone’s birth story leaves you fearful about baby’s heart rate dropping and they tell you that it was because of the epidural, then explore the idea of potentially avoiding an epidural or coming to peace that it’s a side effect and possibility if you choose the epidural route.
Birth stories themselves aren’t bad; I personally love them, but I’m also not pregnant and I’ve been to a lot of births so I know that a lot of things are common, normal, and to be totally transparent and blunt, what I see play out is often not what the families remember because it didn’t feel that way for them.
So remember the magic question back when you’re speaking to someone who’s sharing with you, “Thanks so much for sharing that all with me. Now that I know what happened at your birth, what decisions do you wish you had done differently? Is there a way any of it could have felt better? If these exact same things happen to me, what would your advice be?”
And then put your listening ears on. And then text me afterwards and we can work through some of it together too.