The BEAUTY in VARIANT BIRTH STORIES

My second child was born only 5 months ago. It was thrilling and intriguing to go through the birth process as a sequel. The smooth, speedy delivery of my blonde-haired little man was a precious and brilliant experience that is locked in my heart as one of my top 3 best days ever. While the births of my two sons were vastly different, the love that flooded my heart as I gazed for the first time into each of their individual, glowing selves... that love for each baby boy was equally supreme, divine, consuming, exhilarating, unparalleled, and perfect.

However, after my first son's birth, I thought I had moved past the flood of birthing opinions, put-downs and particularity that clouded my conversations preceding and succeeding his arrival. So many women pestered me with their opinions about medications, midwives, and MDs.

I was wrong. The mama-drama over birth plans is still at large.

Less than two weeks after my second birth, a well-meaning woman in a social circle of mine listened to my birth story. Her smile and listening ear had me fooled. She confidently followed my own story with telling me all that she felt I had done incorrectly, and what I ought to do next time to have a truly special and worry-free birth experience.

I was not surprised or shocked by her assertion, but rather... disappointed. I thought I had escaped the judgement and polarity that so oddly surrounds this topic of giving life to a human.

After some extensive thought on the subject, here are some conclusions I have come to:

I think diversity in birth options is a gift.

Some women have severe anxiety over giving birth anywhere but a hospital bed on the same floor as the NICU with a dozen seasoned doctors nearby.
Some women have severe anxiety over giving birth under the direction of a male doctor who clearly has never given birth himself before.
Some women have severe anxiety over the idea that their baby could see their first ray of daylight anywhere but from the windows of their own home.

Some women need complete feeling in their legs and abdomens to feel contractions and push accordingly.
Some women agonize over the idea of crushing pain and need an epidural to calm their fears.
Some women need the comfort of a water bath as they contract.
Some women need a midwife.
Some women need a doula.
Some women need a doctor.
Some women need a team of nurses.
Some women are under operating room lights while wearing an oxygen mask with a blue curtain blocking the view of their abdomen.
Some women need their moms and sisters and aunts and best friends present.
Some women need only their husbands.
Some women apply makeup so they can feel dolled-up for those post-birth pics.
Some women want a camera as far away from them as possible after pushing.
Some women, unplanned, give birth in the back of an SUV on the side of the freeway.
Some women need a playlist to salute them with anthems as they undergdergo the hardest hours of their lives.
Some women hold the hands of another woman doing the pushing, as they await the chance to hold their adopted baby.

Isn't it a gift that there are multiple options for bringing our babies to this world? Our birth stories can be as individual as the faces of the babies we carry.

Ladies, mothers--I speak for all of us when I say how AMAZING it is that we give life to children.

I plead, sincerely, that we can stop hating on the ways that other women choose to give life to their own babies.
May we focus instead on the joy it is that we are mothers.
May we rise above the degradation that so many worldly views throw at mothers.
May we instead salute one another in this worthy battle of blood, tears, and consuming love that is giving life to our children.