“All procedures offered to a mother should be researched by herself so she can make an informed decision.”
(posted on Facebook on a thread about routine interventions)
“Make sure you hire a doula.”
(said by everyone)

Why are mothers being told to do their own research, find out more about their provider and their hospital, check out the alternatives, and make sure they can make an informed decision?

The pipe on my hot water tank sprung a leak and I called a plumber. Not once was I admonished to check into the possible things he might do to fix it and to decide if it was evidence based or if I should switch plumbers. He did a good job because if he didn’t, it would get around, and no one would hire him again.

And yet, mothers are urged to make sure they find out for themselves the risks of ultrasounds, what the science says about postdates, the risks of synthetic oxytocin (Pitocin/syntocinon), whether an epidural can cause problems, whether Friedman’s curve is actually useful for deciding on a “failure to progress” or if it’s a tool for the hospital to manage their time and resources, whether an induction for a big baby is evidence based, or if their provider supports a VBAC and what the risks are between VBAC and a repeat c-section. And if nothing else, hire a doula. And on it goes.

What’s behind this push for families to do their own research into the routines and interventions of birth? I think it’s been the epic failure of the evidence-based movement.

We were sitting across her kitchen table. A tissue was being nervously mangled in her trembling hands.

“I just can’t do it again,” she said. “Can you tell me about your daughter’s birth,” I asked her?

She explained that everyone told her it was a good birth. Her doctor said it was textbook perfect. Her mother was there and repeated her version of her granddaughter’s birth to everyone who would listen. It was natural. It was quick. It was the best day ever.

And as the story unfolded, tears welled up in my eyes, finally spilling down my own cheeks. It was an awful experience. And my heart broke into pieces again.

She described a birth where she was tortured with screamingly painful vaginal exams, weeping for them to stop, thrashing to escape the confines of the hospital bed where she was tethered to the monitoring machine for policy’s sake, begging to stand up, move, sway, anything to cope with her rapidly advancing labour. Her voice buried under a gentle shush so as not to scare the other mothers.