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I admit it. I’m a fraud.

Up until today that is.

This evening, I (finally) sat down and watched the documentary “The Business of Being Born.”

Something I should have done over 2 years ago while pregnant with Addison. One of the first things I should have done when I began researching birth options and hopped on the natural-childbirthing train.

But I didn’t. And honestly, I have no excuse. So I won’t pretend like I do.

Certainly not the way I pretended I’d TOTALLY seen the movie when people would talk about it and be all, “Ash, you had Addison sans epidural, so you must have watched it, right? What are your thoughts?”

And I’d be all, “Absolutely. Of course! It’s part of what inspired me.”

Because, um, if college taught me anything, it was how to talk my way through just about any situation and come across as decently in-the-know.

That B.A. should have been a B.S.

Regardless, and not surprisingly, I would hands down recommend viewing this film to all pregnant women and their partners. Hell, I wish everyone in America could see this movie.

James and I weren’t surprised by the footage. By the statistics. By what the movie portrayed. It all verified what we had learned in our process of planning for Addison’s birth. It’s why we’re using a midwife for The Sesame Seed’s pregnancy. And why I am once again preparing for one hellishly awesome roller coaster of pain as I bring my second child into the world.

The pain of childbirth is not equivalent to the pain of say a headache, or the aches of the flu, because the pain of childbirth is not an illness. It is what brings life into the world. It is a sign of progress. A sign that your body is doing everything right and not fighting something wrong. A Japanese friend of the family commented this weekend that in Japan childbirth is not discussed in terms of pain. Contractions are the sign of a healthy labor and thus not equated with pain which is what is associated with sickness.

I understand that not everyone wants to be actively engaged with that pain (nor do I expect them to want that), but to me, it’s part of what connects me to my child. And my body. And helps me in the process of giving life.

Oh vagina vagina vagina.

I was in a hospital setting with an OB/GYN for Sunny’s labor, and looking back, I am so grateful that I built the strong birth team and prepared for that experience in the way that I did, given how the hospital staff, the nurses, treated me throughout the experience.

As I screamed by way through a contraction and came out of it lamenting if I’d be able to make it through another one, the nurse said, “Ya know, it doesn’t have to be this hard. Most women don’t do it this way.”

Those words sting to this day.

And actually, Ms. Nurse, if we’re talking globally, most women in fact DO do it this way. And HELLO, I’m the one going through the pain, so please PLEASE be supportive, rather than condescending, about my wishes.

The nurses hounded me when they couldn’t get a read on Addison’s heart through every, single contraction (a regular 5 minute occurrence). They didn’t want me in the shower as it meant removing the monitors even though all I wanted was the comfort of warm water against my belly. AND EVERYTHING WAS TOTALLY NORMAL AND HEALTHY.

My doula did an amazing job keeping them at bay and keeping me focused. I finally called my OB with whom I’d had many a discussion about my wishes for an unmedicated labor and delivery. She agreed to speak to the nurses, and thanks to her persuasion and reassurance, they backed down and left my doula, my sister and James to help me through to 10 centimeters.

But then, when it came time to push, and I wanted to be on my side, my doctor insisted that I get on my back even though I knew that that would make my pelvis smaller, and thus pushing harder. But her insistence, her professional insistence, easily swayed my exhausted, pain-stricken self.

I didn’t want deep-suctioning when Addison was born, yet the snide comments and side glances from the nurses, the insinuations that I was a negligent mother and that something might happen to my precious infant despite having done research in advance and knowing otherwise, found me caving and cringing as they deep-suctioned Sunny’s lungs.

While overall the experience was overwhelmingly what I had wanted, there were moments of weakness and fear brought on by the behavior of the medical staff around me. And that is far from unusual.

I hope I’ll be stronger this time. And knowing that I’ll have a midwife by my side in a hospital where the staff is quite accustomed to women birthing without intervention will make for a markedly different experience than the one I had in the 90210.

But it’s no wonder that the majority of births in the US involve medical intervention when only 6% are attended by midwives, as opposed to 70% of births in Europe and Japan. And yet the US has the 2nd worst infant mortality rate of all developed nations. And, 90-95% of all births IN THE WORLD are normal, i.e. don’t require medical intervention.

But if you want these stats thrown at you in a more compelling way, just go watch the movie. They do it far better than I can.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to watch Addison’s birth for the 8 babillionith time and weep with the magic of it all.

Photo: Courtesy of Shoots & Giggle Photography