Monday, May 18, 2009

Pro-Choice Birthing: Deconstructing Public Discourse on Homebirthing in America


“Critical discourse analysis (CDA) is a type of discourse analytical research that primarily studies the was social power abuse, dominance and inequality are enacted, reproduced and resisted by text and talk in the social and political context.”
-Teun A. Van Dijk

In Andrew Goldman’s March 22nd article, “Extreme Birth,” he asks whether Cara Muhlhahn, the midwife in Ricki Lake’s documentary The Business of Being Born, and the burgeoning homebirth movement in America are part of an unsafe trend in American birthing women. Goldman’s article uses a brief profile of Muhlhahn, a homebirth midwife practicing in New York City, as a case against homebirthing in the U.S. The subtle dismissal of homebirthing as a plausible alternative for women in the U.S. who desire to birth naturally is perpetuating an inaccurate portrayal of natural childbirth at a time when birthing women in America need choices.

As of 2004, the American cesarean section rate was over 30%. The WHO recommends that for a healthy population, which the US qualifies as, the national average should not exceed 5-10%. If the average exceeds this, the population that makes up the difference is actually being put at greater risk. Although only 5% of women who choose a homebirth end up with cesarean sections, the American College of Obstetrics and Gynecology still holds firm on its anti-homebirth stance saying, “childbirth decisions should not be dictated or influenced by what’s fashionable, trendy, or the latest cause célèbre,” indirectly referencing Ricki Lake’s influence on women’s birth choices.

Why is the U.S. cesarean rate so high and still climbing? Some feminist childbirth advocates have argued that doctors perform cesarean sections as a ploy to make more money, pointing to the evidence that higher cesarean rates occur depending on the type and level of insurance the mother has as well as the time of day or week, with more cesarean sections performed at night and on the weekends. Other theorists suggest that these cesarean sections are due more to the desire to rush the process with the use of pitocin, an artificial labor stimulator, or the rupturing of the amniotic sack, also to speed up labor. Both of things can begin what is known as the Cascade Effect, where what seems like a minor intervention snowballs into a series of greater and greater interventions that disrupt the natural process and lead to a greater chance of a cesarean. The Cascade Effect can be seen in how the introduction of Electronic Fetal Monitoring (EFM), a non-invasive and minor medical practice that monitors the baby's health in labor, in the 1970s coincides with the rise in cesarean rates. This also happened to coincide with the boom in malpractice litigations. High rates of cesarean sections can possibly be attributed to the fear of malpractice suits since obstetricians face the highest number of suits against them with over 70% having had suits filed against them at some point in their careers. Regardless of the cause, cesarean sections and overly-medicalized births have been shown to lead to feelings of helplessness and hurt in the new mother, and in the U.S., women’s highest reported emotion is overwhelmed and powerful is the least reported.

What is the source of this system of thought that continues to be reproduced like in Goldman’s article? Medical anthropologist Robbie Davis-Floyd examines the underlying ideologies that have created a medical system in which pregnancy is viewed as a pathology. She refers to the current medical system as based on a "technocratic model" that views the body as a machine. Descartes, Bacon and others in the 1600s created the paradigm that affects so much of Western culture; they "established the philosophical separation of mind and body upon which the metaphor of body-as-machine rest.” Along with this metaphor she points out the power inequality that exists in Western society and permeates the medical system, saying "modern biomedicine...forms a microcosm of American society that encapsulates its core value system" and is carried out in "bureaucratic institutions founded on principles of patriarchy and the supremacy of the institution over the individual." The patriarchal system views the male body as the prototype and therefore the female body is "inherently defective and dangerously under the influence of nature, which due to its unpredictability, was itself regarded as in need of constant manipulation by man."

The reproduction of this ideology in praxis can be increasingly seen in anthropologist Claire Wendland’s "Vanishing Mother" hypothesis, where she argues that “technology becomes both safe space for and locus of knowledge about the fetus, as the mother is rendered transparent, invisible; she vanishes from view.” With the technocratic model, allowing nature to take course within labor creates a situation in which the obstetrician lacks control, leading them to view vaginal birth as unpredictable and dangerous. This view is then projected on to the birthing woman who will come to distrust her own body and its processes.

Conversely, a positive birth experience has been proven to empower the new mother. The psychological benefits of a positive birth experience include increased self-confidence and self-esteem, lower incidence rates of post-partum depression and generalized depression and anxiety and an overall sense of personal empowerment. Physically, positive birth experiences lead to faster recovery rates and greater ease with breastfeeding and infant bonding.

Can homebirths provide this kind of experience? In the Netherlands, the Dutch have the same knowledge and access to healthcare and technology but operate under different medical and ideological systems. In the Netherlands, in the late 1990s, 40% of women chose home birth though their obstetrical practices are no less advanced. Evidence from the Dutch data indicates that there is no increased risk for low-risk expectant mothers in homebirths attended by midwives, and in fact, homebirths had a 33% lower neonatal mort. Rate and a 19% lower infant mortality rate. High-risk women delivering in hospitals influence these data, but the data still illustrate the safety of home births for low risk women.

So, why then is home birth vilified in U.S. medical systems and the popular media as evidenced by ACOG’s statement and Goldman’s article? Most anthropologists and social scientists agree that power inequality and cultural dominance are not perpetuated as a result of powerful men sitting in windowless rooms determining the systems in which we will operate and understand the world in which we live. Instead, these practices are part of a process that we reproduce unknowingly in a cycle that cannot be stopped without awareness of the cycle and subsequent social action. Some even doubt the ability to disrupt the cycle. Still, it is necessary to examine the ways we think the things we think and to discover if there are alternate ways of thinking. Homebirthing in America has a reputation as being unsafe and irresponsible, but that is not necessarily the case. The Netherlands model of childbirth shows us that hospital births need not be the norm, and this article illustrates reasons why we continue to think that hospital births need to be the norm. The important thing is for women to have choices, and homebirth for low-risk women should be one of them.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Birth of a Blog: Awakening Sleeping Beauty in Birth



"“it is through the flow of behavior—or more precisely social action—that cultural forms are articulated."
-Victor Turner

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom. In this kingdom, there was a man and his wife. The wife was a midwife, who carried with her the knowledge, the perpetuation of symbols surrounding the power or a birthing woman. The midwife longed for a daughter to carry on the knowledge to bring forth life with herbal tinctures, freedom of movement, power of touch and strength of soft assurance. The midwife saw the world shifting around her. The advent of surgeon's guilds were bringing women out of their homes, away from their mothers, sisters and other children and into hospitals where they laid on their backs and the male doctors told them how and when to have their babies.

One day, the midwife was in her apothecary combining dried raspberry and nettle leaves for a tea to prepare her expectant neighbor's body for her upcoming labor. Lost in work and thought, she began to shed quiet tears thinking of all that women were losing in the growing medicalization of birth, knowing that the tradition would die with her if she continued to fail to conceive. Her tears slipped into the mortar and the sweet smell of her dearly departed mother's hair wafted through the air. Without hesitation she placed the leaves into a cup of hot water and settled down into her rocking chair, drank her tea and watched the new buds on the magnolia tree dance in the whisper of the spring breeze. Upon finishing her tea, she looked into the bottom of her earthen mug and read in the soggy leaves the message she had almost ceased hoping for.

Two seasons later, she gave birth to a baby girl. In the where the midwife had been born, she labored surrounded by her sisters and the women from the village. As she leaned against her eldest sister, squatting on the floor, breathing through the urge to bear down, pushing her daughter into the world, she whispered, "Renata," and thus the red haired infant was named.

The man and his wife threw a great party and invited the whole village, and because of the wife's renown for her midwifery skills, midwives from all over the province attended, bringing gifts. The celebration was full of music and merriment. Children ran with ribbons, and the adults enjoyed a feast. As the sun began to set, the midwives gathered and began to discuss the changes occurring in the community. Then, there was a knock at the door. The surgeon's guild stood there with their medicine bags.

How could the midwife have labored at home? That was irresponsible. Why hadn't they been invited to the party? Didn't the midwives know that they held the social capital in the village? They cursed the midwife and her daughter.

"Your line will die with you. Your daughter will not live to carry on your barbaric tradition of midwifery. On her fifteenth birthday, she will prick her finger on a needle, and you and your lot will fade until your role in this world is a mere vestige."

With that, they left. The room fell silent until the daughter of one midwife, too young to be trained but old enough to understand spoke. "What if she just falls asleep for a bit?"

The man, the midwife and all of their midwife friends destroyed their sewing needles and tried to forget the ordeal. The world continued to shift, and Renata grew strong and brilliant.

Until her fifteenth birthday when she was walking in the woods, she stumbled and fell on a log. She was mostly fine except for the splinter in her left finger. An old man came walking through the woods and called to the girl asking her if there was a problem. She told him she was fine, just struggling with a splinter. But, he insisted on helping. He pulled out a needle to dig the stubborn little splinter out. The needle glinted in the sunlight and pricked her finger. The reflection of the sun against her eyes blinded her briefly before she fell into a deep slumber.

All around the kingdom, practicing midwives fell asleep, some peacefully, some suddenly, some painfully. There they slept for many decades, sleeping with their secret knowledge of the beauty of birth. The world continued on.

There came a time in a sterile room that a woman laid in stirrups, unable to move, unable to alleviate the pressure of the coming child from her womb, prostrate in the hands of the latex gloves beneath the fluorescent lights. She wondered if this was the only way, and the idea sifted out into the universe, penetrating the collective conscious and more women began to wonder. And, the women began to talk—at first amongst themselves and then to the narrative that lay behind them. They began to search for a history that had concealed the locations and identities, the wisdom and techniques that the sleeping midwives held in their dreaming states.

The women and the men who shared their cause feared the thorns that guarded the path. HMOs, liability, the superiority of the white coat and the ideology beneath it all threatened to pierce their spirits, deflating their belief that they could affect change in the birthing community. Still, they fought on and began to prevail till they could see the mantle of Renata’s fiery hair covering her body in the clearing overhead and knew they were close. They couldn’t give up…

(thanks to Robbie Davis-Floyd and Melissa Cheyney for the allegorical inspiration)