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.

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.

---

Tag this article: