 A friend of mine decided to have her baby
underwater. Because apparently lying in a nice soft bed surrounded by people
whose job it is to wait on you isn't good enough for her.
On some level, the whole water birth makes sense
because the baby moves from one fluid-filled environment to another. But unless
you're delivering a mermaid (or merman), sooner of later, the kid is going to
have to find land legs. Although if you're hoping your child becomes the next
big Disney star, it probably wouldn't hurt to have some fins and flippers. And a
voice like Bobcat Goldthwaite.
In order to make her dream come true, Marcy (that's my friend's name) had
a giant horse trough hauled in and set up where the dining room table usually
sits. Her midwife said it wasn't a horse trough, it was a "birthing tub," but
that didn't stop the equines from whinnying when they saw it go by in the back
of her pick-up. I didn't ask Marcy where she and her husband sat for dinner, but
for over a week, her feet seemed pruny. I have a simple rule: when it comes to
things like horse troughs in the dining room, I operate on a "Don't Ask, Don't
Tell" policy.
To make a long labor short, Marcy's baby strongly disagreed with her
decision to birth him while wearing a mask and snorkel. She sat in the trough
and pushed for two solid hours and he just dug his tiny fingernails into her
duodenum and declared himself a permanent squatter. Finally, the midwife sided
with the baby and they packed up everything and hightailed it to the local
hospital, where finally at ease surrounded by sweet-faced nurses and green
Jello, little Alister was born. Via C-section.
Now surely there must be a few lessons in this story for new moms-to-be.
And, as I've never had any children of my own, I have plenty of time to sit and
think of just what those lessons are. Here's what I've come up
with:
- It's never a good idea
to have any type of farm equipment in your dining room, be it horse trough or
John Deere tractor. Marcy's husband should keep the latter in mind, as lately he
seems to have that "I think I need to take something mechanical apart on the
carpet" look in his eye.
- While taking a bath can
be a very relaxing experience, especially if you're in a Jacuzzi and you've got
a bottle of bubbly nearby, squatting in a horse trough has none of those perks.
The water cools down, you're covered with goose bumps, your feet look like tiny
Sharpeis, your midwife reminds you over and over to push, and you're surrounded
by friends and family, one of whom got confused by the invitation and came
wearing a Speedo. None of this can be good for the baby. Not to mention the
mother. I'm thinking that if your child absolutely needs to be born into a
watery environment, perhaps having a fish tank nearby is your best bet. Remove
the fish first though - you don't want to traumatize them.
- It is true that women
throughout history have given birth while doing dishes or working in the fields.
But these women would have killed for an epidural and a lovely intern to fluff
their pillows. Some traditions are best left alone. You don't send fruitcake
during the holidays, right? Right?
- If you name a baby
Alister, he's going to make things difficult on you for at least thirty-eight
years. Sure, this is true of any kid you name anything at all - Amber, Jacob,
Rover, etc. - but a kid named Alister, who will probably grow up to be a perfect
gentleman who wears an ascot and invites guests over to watch old movies and eat
Brie, is going to have to come out C-section. Holding a bit of your duodenum.
It's only fair.
Birthing studies or not, I'm certain that there
are lifelong traumas that can ensue if you have your kid under water. Fear of
bathing, for one. Or becoming a pirate. In fact, if you're thinking of a water
birth for your next baby, put down What
to Expect When You're Expecting and pick up a copy of Cap'n Billy "The Butcher" MacDougall's Guide
to Pirate Parenting (www.pirateparenting.com). You may need
it.
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