Childbirth is the Newest Spectator Sport

Attendance at youth sporting events might be down, but attendance at labor and delivery is at an all-time high. Childbirth has become a spectator sport in case you "didn't get that memo." It has become a right of passage not only for the expectant parents, but also for aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, friends, friends of friends, and anyone else who can be pulled in off the street. My experience based on my own circus-type birth and my conversations with other moms who have also experienced a crowded delivery room is that childbirth has turned into an out-of-control free-for-all.

Sometime after men were first allowed in the delivery room (circa 1970-something here in the U.S.), childbirth became the new happening place to be. You wouldn't crash a party that you weren't invited to, but most people think nothing of showing up at an impending birth. I must say I hardly understand the fascination, with the exception of the soon-to-be parents, obviously. It's not like there is going to be an encore performance, unless of course the mother is pregnant with twins (or triplets).

Sure there will always be that lone pregnant mother who wants to be on display and have two dozen of her closest friends and family members crowding the labor and delivery room. She's probably the same mom who invited the crew from A Baby Story too, but I think she is somewhat of a biological abnormality.

It might be the result of excessive joy and anticipation that causes humans to flock in droves to the nearest labor and delivery of their closest friend, relative, or half-cousin, but personal joy is not an emotion that should take precedence over the laboring mother's wishes. The birth of a baby is the one day when a mother should have every wish granted. It is HER day after all.

There are physiological advantages to having a private birth as well. Human infants adapt best to life outside the womb if they are held in close and constant proximity to the mothers who they have grown accustomed to during the preceding nine months. Being passed around like a hot potato following birth hardly qualifies as nurturing socialization, and some recent psychological studies do indeed back up my claims. It's called biological imprinting, and its impact on human development is pretty profound. The best person for a baby to bond with following birth is none other than the birth mother. Not an aunt or uncle or grandparent, or, yes, even the father. (Luckily, my husband doesn't suffer from self-esteem issues.) There's no substitute for mom following a baby's entrance into the world. You can't expect a lack of maternal-infant bonding following birth not to have some effect on human development, regardless of how minimal that effect is.

My husband and I actually held out as long as possible before announcing our pregnancy. Years of experience for both me and my husband being the younger siblings provided us with uncanny insight about how exactly our families would react to the news of the lone, first grandchild being born. I was able to predict with stunning accuracy just how the events surrounding my labor and delivery would unfold. I've always fantasized about being psychic, and my scarily-precise predictions about my labor and delivery would send a chill up any parapsychologist's spine. Perhaps, Sylvia Browne needs an assistant.

It's not that I am antisocial or antifamily (although I do prefer solitary pursuits such as reading), but I suspect I was a horse in a past lifetime because, just like our equine friends, I would prefer to give birth alone, or at least with my husband and the absolute minimum number of onlookers (known as medical staff in some parts of the country) present.

Since the birth of my child over 5 years ago, I have spent a considerable amount of time evaluating what errors I made that resulted in my birth experience being way less private than the actual conception. I realize I should have just shown up with a baby after 9 months with no announcement of my pregnancy. Call me selfish, but I wanted to savor my baby as my own, not as some genetic extension of two distinct familial lines. I could care less about continuing the family name. NMP-Not my problem. I romanticized the notion of an intimate birth with my husband (my very longtime partner), and my delivery room turned into an event as happening as a Hollywood Red Carpet affair. Yet, someone managed to forget the popcorn anyway. I wouldn't want anyone at the actual conception, why would I want anyone present while I'm in labor? At least, my crowd of spectators had the decency to leave for the actual birth phase. They were simply loud and annoying while I was experiencing intense contractions, so I have no right to complain (*rolls eyes*).

There are barely any well-documented statistics on birth outcomes and number of attendees present at the birth, both in V.I.P. seating and general admission, but I speculate that Cesarean rates are higher for laboring mothers who have a small army of people in attendance. (Well, at least I heard a rumor that the hospital cafeteria offers group discounts on parties of 30 or more.) Doctors, as much as they try to fake concern for their patients, really desire to keep labor progressing as quickly as possible because they want every birth they attend to neatly fit into the textbook scenarios they spent late hours reading during med school. It's kind of difficult to be efficient as a doctor when you have to trip over a dozen gawking, uninvited bystanders. There is a time limit. You can't take up a hospital bed too long because they would have nowhere to put the next laboring mother. So, a C-section becomes imminent once you have reached the fire marshall's capacity in your hospital room.

Do you really want to be the reason that your friend or relative needed a C-section? Having a C-section is considered MAJOR surgery, which is accompanied by the risk of serious complications and death. Get over your sense of entitlement because you're the aunt/cousin/grandmother/mother-in-law, and allow that pregnant person in your life who you are allegedly so concerned about to enjoy her labor and delivery on her own terms. If you're an expecting mom who wants a birth as private as the actual conception (which is the way it should be), inform everyone immediately. You can't depend on hospital staff to enforce your wishes. I gave birth on a Saturday, which meant anyone off the street could just stroll in right past the front desk while the inept college girl receptionist was busy reading her Fundamentals of Chemistry textbook.

I must say my first and only birth was so over crowded, I am purposely avoiding another pregnancy, in part, so that I do not have to endure such a harrowing experience again. If I do decide on another pregnancy, I will refrain from making an announcement. When I get to the point of showing (sometime around 6 months for me), I will just insist I have a gastric tumor that can't be removed until further test results are confirmed. I will lock all my doors and disconnect my phone and have a peaceful homebirth with a competent, caring midwife and later announce the birth after I enjoy two weeks of voluntary seclusion and bonding time with my immediate family. I have it all worked out. I know my limitations. I deal with pain and discomfort best by retreating into a corner alone. I could tolerate some medical staff present, but having to listen to a half dozen separate conversations by overzealous spectators is something that I definitely found to be rather annoying and prefer to never repeat again.

I've taken it upon myself to be the Emily Post of birth etiquette. I actually don't think there has been much written on the subject, which is why I will leave readers with the last bit of advice. A good rule of thumb- unless you are invited verbally by the pregnant mother herself to the hospital, you aren't invited. Stay home, go see a movie, or create your own conception, which is actually pretty fun. There are endless possibilities. Allow new parents to welcome their precious arrival in peace and tranquility. And if you insist on preferred seating at an upcoming labor and delivery, call a ticket broker. Or better yet, watch The Discovery Channel's A Baby Story on TIVo. At least that way you can fast forward through the commercials. You wouldn't show up to a wedding reception or dinner party without an invitation, and a laboring mother deserves no less respect and consideration. If anything, she deserves more!