BY Marianna Killinger

There is a secret in our culture, and it’s not that childbirth is painful, it’s that women are strong Laurie Stavoe Harm

While this is a great and true statement, there is a bigger secret that many women are hiding under their love for their new babies: birth trauma. While this can refer to a physical injury sustained during birth, I’m talking about the psychological wounds a woman can experience after a difficult birth experience. A healthy baby and healthy mama are the optimal outcome of birth, right? I think we all agree, yes! Even if she looks great on the outside, a mom who hasn’t healed psychologically after a traumatic birth experience, is not a mentally healthy mom.

The feelings and symptoms after a traumatic birth are wide, varying, and personal, but I think a common theme is violation. It happens all too frequently that women feel forced into decisions they aren’t totally informed of, comfortable with, or completely understand (yes, there are “informed consent” forms that are signed, but that’s a formality and realistically, many of those are signed with a shaky hand, out of fear.) Birth is a natural bodily function. Many people forget this fact and sadly, our culture has brainwashed women into believing that they are passive passengers in the journey of childbirth. At a time when they should be most encouraged, made to feel like a goddess, celebrated, respected, and shown nothing but pure love, far too many women are left in the aftermath of a traumatic experience on the very day she is born as a mother. She is a new woman-– amazing, strong and life-giving–ready to face the world. Holding her new baby in her arms, with a smile on her face, (or not, depending on her acting skills,) on the inside she carries the weight of a broken heart, fractured spirit, and shattered self-confidence. This is the result of traumatic birth.

Women are shamed into keeping silent about birth trauma; Made to believe that because their baby is healthy, they should just be grateful and keep quiet about such negativity. “Oh, your birth didn’t go as planned? You should have expected that. You have a healthy baby–that’s all that matters!” Actually no, that’s not all that matters. When a woman gives birth, she is forever transformed and a new creature herself. This is true whether her baby was born vaginally or via cesarean, no matter her age, skin color, where she lives in the world, whether assisted by a midwife or doctor, whether she gave birth naturally or with drugs. Why did our society lose sight of the importance of a new mother’s mental health? Where is the future of the world if it’s not in our children, and the woman who births and raises them?

I believe that while statistics can give us an idea of the reported amount of women who’ve experienced birth trauma, they’re not accurate because this is a silent epidemic. So many of us are totally ashamed to even admit to these feelings, let alone discuss them with anyone. Not talking about a traumatic birth makes a rich breeding ground for postpartum depression, and sometimes even lead down the dark path to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

It wasn’t until my oldest son Jack’s 4th birthday that I was able to really acknowledge and validate the birth trauma I experienced. My plans for birthing peacefully at a birth center were derailed by some decisions I would have made differently, knowing what I know now. As a direct result of the pitocin drip that had me confined to a hospital bed, I suffered a 4th degree episiotomy. The experience, especially the fluorescent lights, was everything I didn’t want. My body was fine–I could handle a little soreness and stitches. But mentally (and I didn’t realize or acknowledge these feelings much at the time) I was beat up. Three years and two weeks later, I experienced the pure, gentle birth of my son Wyatt at home. I learned what birth could and should be.

I don’t rejoice in the experience of Jack’s birth the way I do Wyatt’s. Of course I love him more than anything–I feel the same love about both of my children–but the way he was born made me feel violated, out of control, powerless, and disappointed. I even have issues with the pictures; I don’t want to see photos of myself in a hospital bed with machines nearby. This is not how I want to think of his birth. Time has healed the wounds enough that I remember the powerful feelings of pushing him out more than the powerless lack of control. My broken self confidence has been built back up over time as I continue to grow and evolve as a mother.

I did a little research about Ms. Harm’s quote with which I opened this article. She wasn’t talking about natural birth when she wrote that–she was referring to the fact that women have much to gain in sharing their birth stories with each other. That makes her statement even more fitting to this topic. It’s about sharing our secrets, our stories, our innermost feelings–raw and  honest, as unattractive as they may be. This is what makes women strong: we are able to go through some crazy, difficult things in life but come out on the other side transformed and whole, often better, more authentic versions of our previous selves.

I did a little research about Ms. Harm’s quote with which I opened this article. She wasn’t talking about natural birth when she wrote that–she was referring to the fact that women have much to gain in sharing their birth stories with each other. That makes her statement even more fitting to this topic. It’s about sharing our secrets, our stories, our innermost feelings–raw and  honest, as unattractive as they may be. This is what makes women strong: we are able to go through some crazy, difficult things in life but come out on the other side transformed and whole, often better, more authentic versions of our previous selves.

I don’t believe all births that unfolded differently than the parents had hoped and expected are traumatic. The danger is when these painful feelings are there and left unacknowledged. I think a great way to check in with a mom you suspect might be dealing with postpartum trauma is to say “hey, I know your birth experience was (difficult, painful, not ideal, hard, scary, traumatic- whatever word you choose,) it’s ok to feel let down. If you want to talk, I’m here.” Even better, give her the phone number of a friend who’s gone through a difficult birth experience. Empathy goes a long way.