Before I went on maternity leave I asked a work colleague why she thought labour was called labour to which she replied “because it’s very hard work”. I like this description and think that her words were chosen well. She could’ve said “because it’s painful” or something else to describe the physical sensations, but she chose to articulate the effort involved instead which I applaud. In her article “The Language of Birth“, Alyssa Colton talks about the words used to describe the sensations of labour and childbirth. This sentence in her opening paragraph encapsulates well what I feel before the Wiggler arrives – “Though on some level I was scared, I think I was more scared by all the medical horrors that could happen. As I did more research, I understood that many medical complications are brought about by the practice of medicine itself.” I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little anxious about the whole “pushing a human out” to quote Mr Jones, but I know that in having the Wiggler at home I’ve made the right decision for me to be most mentally comfortable during the process. Which leads me onto…
In my last post I said I felt the hospital labour ward made me feel uncomfortable and I’ve been wondering why. Thousands of women given birth at the hospital each year so it can’t be that bad, right? Wrong! I happened upon this article by Michel Odent. While quite lengthy in its entirety, the following is what I found most interesting (please excuse the American spellings, I only cut & paste!):
“The human handicaps [surrounding birth] are related to the huge development of that part of the brain called the neocortex. It is thanks to our highly developed neocortex that we can talk, count and be logical and rational. Our neocortex is originally a tool that serves the old brain structures as a means of supporting our survival instinct. The point is that its activity tends to control more primitive brain structures and to inhibit the birth process (and any sort of sexual experience as well).
Nature found a solution to overcome the human handicap in the period surrounding birth. The neocortex is supposed to be at rest so that primitive brain structures can more easily release the necessary hormones. That is why women who give birth tend to cut themselves off from our world, to forget what they read or what they have been taught; they dare to do what civilized women would never dare to do in their daily social life (daring to scream, to swear, to be impolite etc.); they can find themselves in the most unexpected, often primitive quadrupedal posture; I heard women saying afterwards: ‘I was on another planet’. When a labouring woman is ‘on another planet’, this means that the activity of her neocortex is reduced. This reduction of the activity of the neocortex is an essential aspect of birth physiology among humans.
This aspect of human birth physiology implies that one of the basic needs of labouring women is to be protected against any sort of neocortical stimulation. From a practical point of view it is useful to explain what this means and to review the well-known factors that can stimulate the human neocortex.
Language, particularly rational language is one such factor. When we communicate with language we process what we perceive with our neocortex. This implies, for example, that if there is a birth attendant, one of her main qualities is her capacity to keep a low profile and to remain silent, to avoid in particular asking precise questions. Imagine a woman in hard labour, and already “on another planet”. She dares to scream out; she dares to do things she would never do otherwise; she has forgotten about what she has been taught or read in books; she has lost her sense of time and then she finds herself in the unexpected position of having to respond to someone who wants to know at what time she had her first contractions! Although it is apparently simple, it will probably take a long time to rediscover that a birth attendant must remain as silent as possible.
Bright light is another factor that stimulates the human neocortex. Electroencephalographers know that the trace exploring brain activity can be influenced by visual stimulation. We usually close the curtains and switch off the lights when we want to reduce the activity of our intellect in order to go to sleep. This implies that, from a physiological perspective, a dim light should in general facilitate the birth process. It will also take a long time to convince many health professionals that this is a serious issue. It is noticeable that as soon as a labouring woman is on ‘another planet’ she is spontaneously driven towards postures that tend to protect her against all sorts of visual stimulation. For example she may be on all fours, as if praying. Apart from reducing the back pain, this common posture has many positive effects, such as eliminating the main reason for fetal distress (no compression of the big vessels that run along the spine) and facilitating the rotation of the baby’s body.
A feeling of being observed can also be presented as another type of neocortical stimulation. The physiological response to the presence of an observer has been scientifically studied. In fact, it is common knowledge that we all feel different when we know we are being observed. In other words, privacy is a factor that facilitates the reduction of neocortical control. It is ironic that all non-human mammals, whose neocortex is not as developed as ours, have a strategy for giving birth in privacy – those who are normally active during night, like rats, tend to give birth during the day, and conversely others like horses who are active during the day tend to give birth at night. Wild goats give birth in the most inaccessible mountain areas. Our close relatives the chimpanzees also move away from the group. The importance of privacy implies, for example, that there is a difference between the attitude of a midwife staying in front of a woman in labour and watching her, and another one just sitting in a corner. It implies also that we should be reluctant to introduce any device that can be perceived as a way to observe, may it be a video camera or an electronic fetal monitor.“
WOW! How amazing is that?
The final paragraph that talks about the feeling of being observed hits on the head exactly what I’ve been feeling about hospital birth, and birth in general if I’m honest. The thought of strangers watching me sends shivers down my spine and makes me feel somewhat queasy. To think that all this time I thought I was a little weird for wanting to be alone when I gave birth. Turns out the doctors are the weird ones for wanting to frighten the bejesus out of women in the name of medical paranoia. I know monitoring serves its purpose and millions of babies are alive today thanks to medical intervention, but for non-complicated pregnancies…? Simon even said that if he was a woman, he wouldn’t want to give birth in a hospital!
So anyway, I now have a few more pointers for my (incredibly loosely drawn up) birth plan 
For those of you who are still with me, check this out! It makes perfect sense that if the same parts of the body used for sex to stimulate orgasm are used for the delivery of a child, why can’t childbirth be orgasmic? Maybe it’s the medicalisation of a non-medical situation that holds so many back? Pregnancy has been around much longer than doctors! I’m hoping that because I’ll be at home in familiar surroundings, with minimal neocortical stimulation (!) I might enjoy the Wiggler’s arrival. Here’s hoping!
