Birth of A Baby

It takes three to make a birthday. Most mothers and a still increasing number of fathers remember the birth of their first child as the most important experience of their lives. But the person for whom this day is truly vital is neither of you two but the third person: the baby.

The baby is closely confined in a warm dark prison of exquisite, neutral comfort. Everything around him is of the same texture and at the same temperature as himself. His eyes are ready but there is nothing for him to see. He has no need to breathe or to digest food, so he feels no sensations from within himself. He can sense sound and movement, but muffled by his insulated liquid environment. He is sealed off from the world, untouched and untouchable.

But the baby is outgrowing his seed-bed. Soon your womb which has nurtured the baby must reject him. And soon the baby’s body must start functioning for itself while his dormant senses receive the full shock of stimulation from the outside world. He must prepare for birth.

As the time for birth approaches and his position is settled, baby and womb drop down together in your abdomen so that his head is engaged in the basin-shaped bones of your pelvis, through the still closed cervix. Now he is held still and quiet. You can breathe more easily too, with a little more room between the top of your loaded womb and your diaphragm.

When labor begins, even the best prepared parents tend to be taken by surprise. It is not that the beginning of the process is difficult to recognize; it is that even the most careful words cannot describe the overwhelming physical nature of the birth process nor prepare you for the extraordinary feeling of having your body taken over by forces which are outside your conscious control. Once labor begins, your baby is going to get himself born with or without your conscious cooperation. The contractions will go on at their appointed rate and strength until the birth canal is fully open. The muscles of your womb will push the baby down that canal and go on pushing until he emerges. There is no way out of the experience except through it, because it is not really your experience at all but of the baby. Your body is the child’s instrument of birth.

The baby is the point of the whole labor process. It is his safe arrival with which your body is concerned. He, and not you, is the star of the show. It may help you as you labor if you can think of him while your body strives to produce him. It will certainly help the baby if you can consider his likely feelings from the moment that he emerges.

Giving birth is an experience which often threatens to be overwhelming. Your body has a demanding job to do and it will do it, but your mind and your emotions can protest violently at being taken over. The results can be painful and distressing. Prenatal training helps enormously by taking the mystery out of labor and teaching you how to help it along rather than hampering it. But an involved partner, who has trained with you and will see you right through the birth, makes all the difference. Although he is totally involved emotionally, he is unaffected physically.

Although more and more couples are taking mutual involvement for granted, and fathers are now being welcomed by almost all hospitals, there will always be some fathers and mothers who do not want it that way. A father who cannot face witnessing a difficult birth or a partner prefers to manage alone can ensure that she feels adequately supported if he can bring himself to talk with her about the experience afterwards.

You, the new mother, have been through a tremendous experience; a major physical and emotional crisis. You will almost certainly find that you need to re-live it; to talk about it detail by detail, work it out, understand it, think about your feelings. There may be practical details which confuse you and which need sorting through before you can stop thinking about them. And emotional details may feel important too. Until the birth experience has been talked through, it will not slip comfortably away to the back of your mind, leaving you free to give yourself wholeheartedly to mothering the baby you have produced.

Brutally forced through a tight passage from a soft, quiet, warm, dark haven into a world of light and noise and texture, every bit of the baby’s nervous system reacts with shock. It is the shock of birth that stimulates the baby to make the fearful effort to breathe for himself. He must breathe, but if the baby can make this vital transition for himself, the old brutalities of slapped bottoms can be avoided.

We can wait on him gently to discover the beauty of a first breath without crying. If the baby is to breathe easily, his nose and mouth be clear of amniotic fluid and mucus. Safely breathing, the baby needs time to rest and to discover that even through the womb has ejected him, there is still comfort in his world. But he cannot rest unless his surroundings are toned down.

If all is dim and quiet, warm and peaceful, the baby will relax after his traumatic journey. His breathing will steady. His crumpled face will smooth itself out and his eyes will open. His head will lift a little and his limbs will mov against your skin. Put very gently on your breast, he may suck, discover a new form of human togetherness and feel a little less separated. These are his first contacts with his new world. Let him make them without distress. These are his first moments of life, let him have them in peace.