It began with a review of a sex advice book for moms, written by my friend and business partner, Kristen Chase, in her Mominatrix persona. Instead of addressing the other 99.9% of the material in the book – wickedly funny and dead-on sex advice – the review zeroed in on a few statements regarding birth, and the one that drew the most ire referenced “lucky c-section bitches” – lucky because we haven’t squeezed a baby out of our nethers and aren’t suffering the “hot dog in a hallway” phenomenon bemoaned by more than a few mothers who’ve had vaginal deliveries.
It was a joke, a humorous-yet-sympathetic reminder that there’s at least one positive aspect to undergoing major surgery. Another positive aspect, of course, being the safe delivery of a healthy baby.
The topic on the Mominatrix radio show yesterday morning was “Sex After C-Sections,” and the subsequent discussion on Twitter went even further afield than the review did: from the condition of our vaginas, to the faulty assumption that c-sections are by nature traumatic, to the ghastly comparison of c-sections to rape.
Yes, you read that right. In some women’s view, the birth of a healthy baby via surgery is akin to a violent crime.
I’ve had three c-sections. The first one came after 30 hours of unproductive labor. My doctor told me we could keep going; I chose to have the baby within the hour. Four days later, I walked home from the hospital with my husband and our new baby girl. My second and third c-sections were scheduled procedures. I chose to leave the hospital a day early after my third; my recovery was truly that easy.
In no way were my c-sections traumatic. However, it did take some time to reconcile the picture of birth painted by Dr. Sears in his books with the reality I’d experienced. I knew I’d done what my body could handle, and I’d trusted my doctor’s advice. I had no reason to feel guilty or that I were a lesser mother than one who’d given birth vaginally. I was healthy, and so was my baby. That’s what really mattered.
We all undergo some degree of trauma in our lives. Life is filled with curveballs. Some come in the form of an alcoholic, abusive father. Some come in the form of a precipitous birth under less-than-ideal conditions. Some come in the form of a lost baby. Some seem to just keep coming and coming until the rest of us wonder how much more one woman can take. All of them come with heavy hearts and bruised souls.
We can choose to let our traumas make us their bitches, as the Mominatrix might say. We can choose to blame others for the pain we’ve endured. We can choose to compare our reality to the picture painted by someone else and endlessly lament the differences. We can embrace victimhood, or we can choose to get over it.
I have great admiration for my friends who’ve overcome terrible trauma. They haven’t forgotten it, of course. But it doesn’t rule their lives. It doesn’t keep them from moving forward. It certainly doesn’t provoke them to make leaps of logic and level harsh and unfair judgment upon others. Instead, it’s helped them become stronger, more compassionate, and more kind and loving and generous than they already were.
And we c-section bitches are lucky to have them as our friends.



My first c-section was such sweet sweet relief. In recovery afterward, hearing the obstetrician tell me that I would need to have c-sections from now on, I felt a twinge of Missed Life Experience (along the lines of “I guess I will never go to medical school after all”—when I’d never planned to or wanted to) but mostly OH THANK DEAR BEEZUS. I am so grateful for the medical technology that allowed me to have the big family I wouldn’t have otherwise been able to have. If some crazycakes wants to refer to that surgical procedure as rape (or as ANY definition that doesn’t include the wonderful gift of the motherhood I wanted, which it allowed me to have), I think they can be safely ignored.
Missed Life Experience – that captures my thoughts perfectly.
I have to preface this by saying that I don’t listen to the Mominatrix’s shows, nor do I use Twitter. From other arguments on Twitter that I have read (after the fact), I know that they can quickly degenerate when emotions start to run high.
That being said, I did read the critique that you allude to, but don’t link, as well as all the comments. I was fascinated. And horribly saddened at the same time that so many women have such trouble after their birth experiences. The author of the critique was very respectful, and took issue only with those phrases with which she had problems, as apparently many other women do as well. It is only a joke, remember, if everyone is laughing.
I do need to ask you, why such defensiveness? How does not acknowledging the very unfortunate and real pain of some mothers after a cesarean section serve anyone? How can we know another person’s truth? Your truth is that you had three great experiences. I am sincerely pleased for you, but not everyone can claim that, regardless of the method of birth. I can claim only two of three of my vaginal births were a good experience. We each have our own truths.
I am disappointed that, in part because of your defense of your friend’s word choice in her book and the subsequent fallout, that you are basically telling other women to just shut up already and move on about their birth experiences. That their feelings about their c-section don’t matter, because they are different from your feelings, and as long as they had a healthy baby it’s all good, and so they can’t take offense to her words. With respect to the friend you referenced above, with her shredded nethers, you probably wouldn’t take kindly to someone telling her that her bum has healed and their own vaginal birth with big baby and shredded bum weren’t as bad as all that, so hers couldn’t be, so just shut up and get over it?? Words do hurt, after all, (remembering the “R” word posts, here), and if we cause offense by our actions or words, isn’t apologizing the kindest, and best, thing to do? Especially in support of other women, other people??
I do generally enjoy your posts. You frequently give me something to think about and I usually agree with you. Not in this case, though.
Defensiveness? Not at all. I acknowledged the trauma we all suffer due to different experiences in our lives.
I’m not telling anyone to shut up. Trauma is real and needs to be dealt with. But the reality is that life goes on. We can choose to allow our past traumas to negatively color our view of everything else in our lives – including our ability to brush off jokes that we may not think are funny – or we can choose to focus on life beyond the trauma we’ve endured.
I pity the women who’ve gotten so bent out of shape over a few sentences in a sex advice book.
Joy, I think that Julie’s point was that we can acknowledge the pain and trauma of certain birth experiences and still talk about them in a spirited and humorous manner. In my experience, in fact, being able to talk about my own trauma in a way that isn’t doom and gloom makes it possible for me to look past it.
Kristen (the Mominatrix) didn’t tell women who’ve had c-sections to get over it. Julie isn’t doing that here. Everybody is saying, let’s be open to different ways of talking about and dealing with this stuff and NOT be so quick to accuse each other of disregarding each other’s experiences just because we talk about things differently – I don’t accuse women who’ve had c-sections and feel scarred by it of dismissing my trauma with their stories. Nor do I mind when people make Frankenvulva jokes (I started those, actually.) I *do* mind when people automatically assume that because I or anyone else uses humor to discuss these things – or because I or anyone else defends someone who does – that I have no sympathy for anyone with an experience contrary to my own.
And? When we *do* end up with healthy babies? It *is* the most important thing. It just is. Ask someone who’s lost one. They’ll trade us our c-section scars or new assholes and broken pelvises and shredded nethers for their babies, ANY DAY.
I think it’s really challenging to be black and white (or even vaguely grey) about this topic; it’s probably a topic where you just can’t please everyone (no pun intended for the Mominatrix). I definitely see both sides — obviously, I know and love Kristen and totally get that the book is humor (while providing advice of course). However, I do wonder, for those who do not know the Mominatrix persona and get the vibe, whether that’s why this issue got so blown up. Well, that, plus the general sensitivity of the matter. And the fact that things can run very much out of control on Twitter. And probably a million other things. It’s a multidimensional ball of wax.
For the record, I had one very unwelcome c-section. I was planning on a natural childbirth but ended up with food poisoning and a fever at 42 weeks that sent my baby into distress. I cried the whole time on the operating table as I felt nothing going on beyond the curtain…it was all a little surreal. However, I would never equate that experience to rape. Yes, the experience was vastly different than what I had planned, but ultimately I gave my consent to move forward.
I’m sorry your c-section was so upsetting to you. I recall that the atmosphere during my first was very different from the subsequent two, and I was far more nervous that first time. (I think the hot anesthesiologists I had for the second two distracted me significantly from the procedures.)
I would (gently) submit that while I think a birth plan is an educated and responsible approach, I also think that more mothers-to-be should keep it in mind that things may turn out very differently from what they expect – and I include myself in that group, as I was thoroughly unprepared for the reality of my first c-section.
HBM, Yes, I know that a healthy baby IS the most important thing. My first birth brought me way too close to that cliff to ever be able to deny that baby’s health is paramount. Yes, humour is helpful, but is it helpful for everyone, all the time?? I laugh at everything, but I have offended others with that, and have learned to just acknowledge, with some, what they are saying, and only that, in that space of time, and offer an apology if they require it. And leave it there. I think that if we can just stop, look at (or text) a women who is having trouble dealing, and say I HEAR YOU, THAT SUCKS, without any other qualifiers at all, then she may actually start believing that she *is* heard. The, “yeah, but…” just isn’t as helpful or respectful as we can be sometimes. And all I am reading (pretty much across the board) is the “but, …” stories and statements. I’m not sure why that disappoints me as much as it does…
Joy,
Kristen stated repeatedly that she understood c-section trauma and that she wasn’t dismissing it, that the joke was meant to put in a humorous light the very real problem of exploded nethers with v-births and the effect of that on the sex lives of the women so exploded. The ‘I hear you, that sucks’ was always there, but she defended her freedom to make the joke, noting that her humor is not for everybody. Which, I think, is as it should be.
And it could have been left at that, but it wasn’t, which is where, I think, the problem comes in: if we can’t accept that most humor (most humor that is interesting, anyway) is always going offend somebody, somewhere, and so refuse to accept any such humor, then we’re talking censorship and humorlessness and UGH. So why isn’t it just as reasonable for someone who is very sensitive about the subject to *not* listen to K’s radio show or buy her book, and/or to say, wow, I just don’t think this is funny and leave it at that, rather than accuse Kristen of being hateful or attacking c-section women or what-have-you.
Anyway. The problematic crux of this for me is the suggestion that seems to be prevailing that we just can’t talk about certain mothers’ issues in certain ways. If I couldn’t joke about Frankenvulvae, if Redneck Mommy couldn’t joke about grieving, if Kristen couldn’t joke about envying intact vaginas, well, we – and many more others – would have a much harder time navigating this stuff. And that would be a shame.
I know that there are unnecessary c-sections, I absolutely agree with that. But if you cannot trust your doctor or midwife to make good decisions regarding your care, I think you need another provider.
I was disappointed that my first birth ended in a c-section after 40-some hours of labor. So disappointed that I tried for a vaginal birth with my second child … and required another c-section after another 20+ hours of labor. If I could have my third, lost baby back? They could slice me open from head to toe to get him out, and I’d weep with joy.
Excellent point – absolutely excellent. The trust between patient and doctor/midwife/doula is essential to a positive experience, no matter which way the baby exits.
I had a traumatic c-section. It came after trying to have my first via a natural, doula-assisted birth, but when it was discovered she was breech (had flipped, somehow, very late) and not descending, I had to be rushed into the ER. My recovery was AWFUL and breastfeeding was torture due to the pain from my scar. It’s why I chose to have two VBAC’s—the second VBAC even after my bladder had literally fallen out of me after pushing an 8lb’er out of my body and stretching things out so badly that I couldn’t hold my organs inside. I prayed the 2nd VBAC wouldn’t destroy me, and it didn’t, but I’ll never go for a mile run ever. I can barely play tag with my kids.
That said, I am NOT a victim. I am so thankful to have had a life-saving c-section, as crappy as the recovery was. I am thankful I did the research and found a hospital that would let me have a VBAC—the first with an epidural, the second without. Even though I may someday need surgery to hold things “up” (Kegels may not cut it), it was worth it all.
Those who compare c-section to rape offend me. If you had a bad c-section, I empathize—I did too. But, they are NOT the same. If your c-section was rape, you should be calling the police not writing a blog post.
And, a couple of flip comments that the very funny Kristen makes in her book are being WAY blown out of proportion by a couple of people with an agenda. I’m sure not everything in her book will be my cup of tea (I will not, ever, “sext” or wear a maid’s outfit, even though I’d look damned cute), but that doesn’t mean the entire book should be ignored. Those who chose to read a couple of words in a SEX book (not a childbirth book) and go bananas need to take a chill pill and start ranting over things that really matter like women in Africa who get obstetric fistulas in childbirth.
So scary. But so fortunate that you and your daughter survived – thanks to medical assistance. Not a victim, indeed!
Thank you for emphasizing two key points. 1) It’s a sex advice book, not a childbirth book. 2) Simply because not all points in the book resonate with every one of us doesn’t mean we ought to throw the baby out with the bath water. (heh)
Hey, who’s saying my vagina isn’t in tact?
It’s true, yes. The Mominatrix made what could be taken as an offensive joke to some people.
And she, herself, knows that her humor or the way she discusses certain topics is not for everyone.
That does not imply at all that she:
a) Recommends c-sections to her readers (or anyone, for that matter)
b) Believes that trauma does not exist or is not a valid mental state (or condition – depending on how you choose to define it)
c) Believes that all women with c-sections have tighter vaginas that women who have not have c-sections
It is her hope that this discussion can turn from “The Mominatrix Hates Women Who Have Had C-Sections” to a discussion about, wait for it:
What we as women and mothers can do to help women who might have experienced a c-section to HAVE BETTER SEX.
Sometimes, when the pain is bad and they’re feeling crappy that they had to have a c-section, it might be funny to some moms to think that maybe their vaginas are tighter that the mom next to them.
But aside from the joke, there’s a lot of helpful, woman-supportive info in the book that might really help a lot of women who ARE suffering from PP vaginal pain, c-section scar pain, and yes, even emotional pain from their birthing experience.
It may not be presented in the manner in which you would like to hear it, but it’s there.
And I’d be more than happy to write a column specific to the post partum sexual needs of c-section mothers that goes beyond the tips and products and recommend in the book. – feel free to email me if you’d like to collaborate.
Just keep in mind that leather whips and handcuffs are part of the deal.
No thanks. For real tips on how to have better sex after childbirth, I’ll stick with “Ending Female Pain” by physical therapist Isa Herrera. Excellent book, and with no lame “jokes” either.
Yeah, who likes jokes! Down with jokes! Sex is no laughing matter.
Great post and lots of great comments.
I just want to add that IMO, the very phrase “lucky c-section bitches” makes it obvious that Kristen was JOKING. No one actually wishes major surgery on their friends, or surgical recovery on the mother of a newborn.
Pointing out that their might be a silver lining in one area of life, at least for some c-section moms? IMO, funny. Your mileage may vary; if it does, read a different sex advice book.
And BTW, I want to point out that there are a helluva lot of books out there. As a lesbian parent, I stumbled across innumerable pregnancy and parenting books that were full of dad-dad-dad-dad-dad-dad-dad. Nothing wrong with that, but not what I was looking for. I had to keep looking, maybe longer than average, to find books that spoke to my family, or where the dad-oriented bits didn’t feel excessively judgmental. (BTW, I recommend “Bun in the Oven” by Kaz Cooke as a fantastic, funny, totally non-judgmental pregnancy book.)
If you’re looking for a book that speaks to you, sometimes you have to keep looking.
Great follow up to Christina’s point that not everything in the Mominatrix book will be right for everyone. Any sort of advice/self-help book requires sifting and picking and choosing based on our personal circumstances.
When I was a teenager, I remember my Aunt telling my Granny that another mother had said to her, “4 c-sections? well then, you really don’t know what it’s like to birth a child.” My Aunt was visibly hurt by the comment as she had particularly long processes in healing the last 3 times – to the point where the doctor said there was no way she could carry another child. There was no reason for that other mother to say such a thing. It seem almost more hurtful when a fellow mother criticizes you for a parenting issue.
It was then I got my first glimpse at how mothers compete. I’d like to think that nearly 20 years later, we’re better, more educated people and since I see you Julie, Kristen, and the others you talk about here, constantly supporting women, I know that comment was a) tongue in cheek and b) taken way out of context.
It’s sad to see mothers still jumping each other over matters that we should be supportive about.
Great post Julie.
Ouch. Yes, competition has been alive and well for many generations, and now we get to engage in it with strangers on the Internet – whoo!
Thanks for the kind words, Karen.
I completely understand anyone’s right to be offended at anything for any reason. I understand how even off-handed remarks can carry way more weight than they were meant to when you’re in a vulnerable spot.
What I can’t abide by is the fact that this has not been an intellectually honest debate. This post might be the first step.
Making Kristen the poster child for c-sections is simply absurd. If people would simply read the book it would be clear that she makes no judgment whatsoever about any birthing choices at all, and is simply offering sex advice (it’s a sex book? Remember?) to women whatever their postpartum condition. In fact I would imagine the vast majority of women who endured c-sections would be grateful to be acknowledged and to have their unique concerns addressed, particularly in a world where they’re often made to feel less than, for not having a vaginal delivery. As Karen said above.
For those with devastatingly traumatic birth intervention experiences – man, how my heart has gone out to them this week. But for those leading the way in what seems like a misdirected charge, I wish they’d put down down the pitchforks and the hyperbole. Twisting words to create a straw man (or straw Mominatrix) antagonist in the course of righting real, bona fide medical wrongs really does not help the cause.
I’d imagine all mothers want to advocate for safer birthing for all. Let’s assume value in one another and figure out how we can come together instead of tearing each other apart.
Grateful to be acknowledged – yes! I know that’s how Devra (@ParentopiaDevra) felt when reading the “lucky bitch” line. Likewise, though I came to terms with my Missed Life Experience (h/t Swistle) years ago, it made me feel valuable when Kristen asked for my input as a c-section mother when she was writing the book.
The sex advice book, that is. Thanks again for reiterating that significant detail which keeps getting buried.
My husband told me that things were “the same” after the vaginal birth of our son.
Then he said, you know, after a while.
I just came out 3 years later that it took an entire year.
As for the rest, I think we’re all lucky bitches to be spending our time debating this on the interwebs. And that we should all be having more sex. But not necessarily babies. Heh.
It took a year after each of my three c-sections. Stuff changes after birth – I applaud The Mominatrix for taking on a tough topic with her trademark humor (which, as she has said repeatedly, not everyone will appreciate).
(Kyle agrees with your thoughts on having more sex. But if I have another baby, I’m calling TLC.)
I am so proud of you for writing this the way you did. Not that I’m surprised at all. Most of us, would want to name call. Ahem. I said it on Facebook, but I’ll say it again. If it weren’t for c-sections, I’d be dead. My mom would as well. I was a full placenta previa. As it was, we both nearly died. Two and a half years later, they offered my mom the chance at a vaginal birth with my brothers and she CHOOSE a scheduled c-section. Which really, with two big headed babies, I sure as hell would too. Taking one line, one snarky, funny line…that I’ll be honest, after three vaginal births, one without the joy that is the epidural, I’ve thought to myself as well and making it this big huge thing, just isn’t okay. One line. Attacking Kristen and everything she stands for, for one line, is ridiculous. Saying a c-section is like rape, is just messed up. At that point though, the people saying that, start sounding uneducated. People, who are arguing just for the sake of arguing.
I see it as hyperbole (like Liz said), meant to attract attention to a real issue. Problem is, such exaggeration dilutes any valid, salient points to be made.
I may go all over the place with this comment. I have feelings on both sides that firmly put me in the shade of gray on all this.
Even though I can joke about my c-sections and c-sections in general, I understand that not everyone can. I think we all know that not everyone will find the same things humorous. That shouldn’t mean we can’t joke about. But those who do not appreciate the joke should also be free to speak up about it.
If you know anything about the person in question who reviewed the book, then you know that she is anti-cesaeran (as well as pro-VBAC) for many very good reasons that our general society often dismisses) . She also emphatically proclaims herself as an activist for this cause. OF COURSE she was going to write about the comments she objected to in her review of the book about a subject she is passionate about. But IMO, she did so respectfully.
However, I don’t think everyone has been respectful of the Mominatrix. It’s one thing to acknowledge the very real trauma that some people suffer when they have a c-section. It’s another to lambast Kristen for a lightly meant joke. I don’t think it is fair to put her in the center of this debate.
But also, I have thought that the responses by the Mominatrix to this serious issue that people have have been very flippant and not always addressing the real issue. For example, in the show she did as a bit of a response, the woman who she talked to about her c-section that I assumed was supposed to represent the other side of the fence was someone who had a pretty easy c-section. She said that you can barely see her scar and that she didn’t even need pain medication in her recovery. This was NOT my experience nor many others. I would have liked to have heard a more balanced discussion with people who represent those who have had trouble post c-section.
I believe this is what the Mominatrix has just offered to do in the comment above when she says she’ll write a column about this. I’m no PR expert, but in my opinion THAT is the right response.
Examine the context: it’s a cheeky line from a smart-alecky irreverent persona. A response such as, “Dude, I wish I felt lucky! My c-section kicked my ass; I’m still working through the baggage,” would have been far more appropriate and well-received than the escalation and attacks we’ve seen.
I still maintain that the review itself, while not inflammatory (though the comments were, and the author has fanned the flames), was far afield. It’s a SEX ADVICE BOOK. Stick to the topic, rather than using a few lines to further a personal agenda at the expense of Kristen.
I don’t disagree with what you are saying in this comment. And I agree it is just a cheeky line (I love the word cheeky) that many find funny and/or relevant. In fact, my response to reading the line was exactly what you said. So I don’t have a problem with what she wrote, but I also don’t have a problem with what the reviewer wrote.
I have a problem with the responses on both sides. I totally disagree with the attacks on Kristen. She was joking, and if people want a certain type of joke to stop being made, they need to educate others on why they have an issue with it–not flame the person saying them. I think this is true of anyone who has an issue with any type of joke.
But also I wish that Kristen’s responses were a bit more thoughtful of those who were bothered by the joke. Having followed her for years, I know she is a thoughtful person who respects other peoples’ opinions. There has been plenty of talk on parenting blogs about how companies and people respond to PR issues. I think that there was another way Kristen could have gone about her responses to this, which is basically a PR issue.
I hope that she does write a column to help the people who have had some serious damage with c-sections. I think that’s a fantastic response, so long as she discusses the issues with people who have had problems with their c-sections. This is a real opportunity to help, and I’m sure she could provide great help with her trademark humor in this area.
Let me start by saying I’ve witnessed this debate from the beginning – I follow the reviewer on Twitter. I think it’s ballooned into a ridiculous mess!
Julie – I think you hit the nail on the head re: birth plans. They should just be a tentative plan. I think if more women went into labor with that mindset there’d be fewer women crying foul.
My c-section wasn’t planned. It was after 32 hours of stalled labor with horrid back labor. I was soooo anti intervention leading up to D Day, but even I had to admit the section was the way to go.
I don’t feel like less of a mother or woman. I feel like a mother. I’m not a victim.
Some of these women are rabid when the topic of c-sections comes up. I would like to contend that the % of c-sections has risen because the number of maternal and fetal deaths has decreased. I feel fortunate I was able to have the surgery and a healthy, happy baby.
And for the record, my Butterball is 4 months old and he breastfeeds like a champ!
Right there with you. Congrats on your happy and healthy little guy!
Wow, I love being squarely on the fence here: c-section, VBAC, c-section. So does that make me a lucky c-section bitch squared? Or a lucky VBAC bitch once removed? I’m gonna just side with VDog and advocate for more sex. And better sex. Now, off to buy a copy of the book to further that goal.
More sex! Better sex! I can hear husbands everywhere cheering!
Rah.
I came home and found my husband reading the Mominatrix. Bookmarking it. Underlining it.
I have to agree. In life we all have to realize that holding on to these “bad” things that happen to us only makes us prisoners to it. I have learned through various hard life situations in my childhood to deal with it and then let it go.
I have seen it first hand what holding on to the “bad” will do to a person and it is not good at all. I have lost a sister in the process. Not in reality, she is alive and as well as she can be but she has let this “something” in her life rule it and completely take over. She is not the same person.
I am not saying in anyway that would should forget the things that happen to us because it makes us who we are. But lashing out on someone else because you have not truly dealt with your “bad” things is just cruel.
I say the moms out there that feel that their births were truly that insanely bad need to seek professional help.
Thank you for sharing your personal example of how trauma can take over a person’s life. I’m sorry for what happened to your sister; I’m even sorrier that she’s lost herself (and you’ve lost her) as a result.
While I was a offended by the “lucky bitch” comment (as it was quoted in the original critique, and as it pertains to my own post-cesarean experience), I was able to better understand the good-yet-misguided intentions of the joke during Mominatrix’s radio show. Humor *can* be a great way to help someone work through their disappointment or grief, but one always has to walk a very fine line when using humor in this way. It can cause offense, but it can also cause hurt feelings if used in an even unintentionally insensitive way.
What I didn’t understand, however, was that the Mominatrix didn’t take the opportunity on the show to respond to the concerns raised by the commentors on TFB’s blog. And I was thrilled that she was taking the opportunity to host such a show! But her “sex after c-section” advice seemed to pertain to focusing on tight vaginas and hiding the blemish of a cesarean scar, when the stories on TFB’s blog related to adhesion pain and post-traumatic stress disorder and other *serious* contributors to sexual dysfunction. These experiences can’t be ameliorated with “a giggle.” Maybe some raunchy sex advice, sure! But that advice should be (and should have been) tempered with even a teeny bit of research and sensitivity toward the many sexual complications that can be the result of a cesarean section. And I didn’t see this happening on the radio show.
And because I can’t let this go either, I hope that the discussions on this topic don’t devolve into a “battle” between mothers who have had non-traumatic c-sections and those whose c-sections were traumatic experiences. C-sections aren’t *inherently* traumatic experiences, nor do they *necessarily* result in sexual dysfunction. But they certainly *can* be traumatic, and they *can* have detrimental effects on a woman’s sex life/sexual enjoyment. And neither sort of c-section experience erases the other.
The Mominatrix, if you’ve read her columns at the very least, is not one to address issues in earnest. She is probably not the right person to advise those who’ve had traumatic birth experiences and are still recovering from that trauma and unable to take her humor in the way it’s intended.
And to reiterate again, the review focused on the very tangential aspect of how birth affects sexual function – a very small part of the overall content of the book.
I had a c-section, and I have encountered many people who have strong opinions about how horrible and traumatic c-sections are…yet they usually aren’t the ones who’ve had them. I think it can go either way.
I’m happy I have my son with me here and healthy as can be, and I’m happy I am also healthy and able to enjoy him. I don’t feel like less of a woman or a mother because I didn’t have a “natural” birth, it’s not the birth experience that makes you a mother it’s the parenting…I wish more women could and would understand that.
My cousin Karen [Sugarpants] basically said everything else I wanted to say, lol. My mother is a fantastic mother, regardless of the fact that we were all c-sections. It doesn’t matter, and more importantly…it SHOULDN’T matter.
Thank you for writing this post!
I think women who have had traumatic experiences can be effective advocates for others who share those experiences. I also think women can sometimes take advantage of those experiences to gain power and further their agendas. Sad but true.
Thanks for the kind words.
Holy mothers of babies, this is an interesting one! Having lived through V birthing 2 huge, large-headed babies (9 lbs and 9.5 lbs), the first with vaccuum and (UGH) foreceps, I am grateful to anyone for bringing to light the various traumas that are brought unto our nether regions and pelvises in any manner of birthing! In particular, advice regarding the subsequent remodel / restructuring of the “foundation” and how all of this relates to the old sex life post baby. THIS IS USEFUL INFORMATION PEOPLE!
The issue under the issue might have to do with our expectations about childbirth and the information we have access to prior to the delivery room. Expectations abound: expectation that your birth experience will come anything close to what you planned in your head (does this ever happen?), the possibilty that your post-birth experience will look ANYTHING LIKE what Dr. Sears outlined in his parenting book (soft-lit bonding and babywearing, organic co-sleeping bliss – ha), and the expecation that your body will be a close semblance of what it once was the year (or remainder of your lifetime) after your birth experience functionally and asthetically.
A C section is often medically necessary and in the best interest of the health of the mother and child. Can this be traumatic for the mother physically and emotionally? Certainly. It doesn’t appear that anyone here was denying that. It seems though that there might be an opportunity to increase awareness of the C section possibility and it’s potential after-effects prior to the birth experience. Just like I might have liked to have known that after a 9 lb baby and a forceps birth I would pee my pants every time I laugh, dance, jump or jog with a bladder more than 10% full. I am convinced no one can comprehend the pitfalls, trials and tribulations of childbirth and parenting until you are either smack dab in the thick of it or in retrospect, wondering what the HELL happened. Maybe in birthing class they should just tell you: 1. don’t forget to breathe, 2. It’ s not going to be ANYTHING like you envision. 3,4,and 5. It will be painful and messy, and possibly very very very long and bloody, there may be cutting and tearing, maybe the use of scalpels and hopefully some pain medication. And more exhausting and terrifying than anything you could ever imagine. Oh, and you will end up with scars and may never get back the bladder control you once had. THE END!
I have not had a C section but know and love several women who have, and based on what they tell me, they would bave probably died had the option not been available to them. There are potentially disturbing physical and emotional aftereffects in any scenario. And they are real, but many people can find (and need to find) humor in the indignities. And also, as many people have mentioned, this was a book about sex. Have not had a chance to read it but it sounds like there are some not so fabulous yet very real truths and advice about post-baby sex. With humor. Which I think we could all use a little more of as mothers tend to take things a wee bit seriously (no pun intended with the “wee”)
Meghan, I nearly peed my pants with excitement to see you here. I’ve missed you. Birth is tough stuff no matter how it happens. Thanks for the thoughtful comment.
Now I just find you via facebook! I don’t cruise the blogs like I used to. Love your site and the very interesting topics and discussion. Discourse is good! Regarding the recent hysteria: overreaction and underinformed misdirected indignance is annoying.
Hope you are well!
Yeah, Meghan! It’s like old home week!
Even if Mominatrix had put in content regarding birthing methods and the pros/cons of them, her editor probably would have yanked it out as it doesn’t fit — after all, the book is mainly about sex AFTER childbirth not DURING it. (I just put some really disturbing imagery in my head.) That particular chapter with the text getting skewered is titled “Addressing the State of Your Vagina” — it has nothing to do with sex being uncomfortable after a c-section (or VBAC for that matter), which hey, that’s addressed elsewhere in the book (which is conveniently ignored). And really, a chapter that has the line (paraphrasing) “your orchid may now look like a Venus Fly Trap” in the opening paragraph is being taken ultra-seriously? Come on, people.
Same with the show — it was titled Sex AFTER C-sections. And yes, maybe it would have been better to have had somebody on that had more of a rough go of it, but the topic was kind of last minute and it’s not exactly easy to find a mom willing/able to come on our show at 9:30 on a Thursday morning to talk about their cooter — especially one not just coming on to push an agenda — so Mrs. Whipping Boy (my wife) was the easiest option.
Thanks for the paraphrase – great illustration of how The Mominatrix is open and honest…and about as far from earnest as it gets.
I think a male perspective is quite necessary. Having experience in supporting my wife through both c-section & VBAC and educating myself through reading multiple books on birth and sex, I feel qualified to have an opinion on this issue. People have to always keep in mind that having a natural birth vs. having a c-section is not a black and white issue. This is why it is SUCH a sensitive subject. First, it is obvious that c-sections are sometimes necessary and life saving. We ALL know this so using that point is mute; it doesn’t apply here. To those women who’ve had positive experiences with their c-sections are very fortunate because when the outcome is bad, it can be VERY BAD. From the number of comments all across the web, it is quite clear that the negative experiences of c-sections have greatly out-weighed the positive. Additionally the experience is not limited to the woman who experienced it. It impacts the entire family. I was impacted by it.
Not only did I see that vats of my wife’s blood soaked up by gauzes on the floor, her guts on her chest, and watch her vomit repeatedly from the effects of the anesthetic, I was there to help her recover both physically and emotionally. Recovery from something like this is not over night. It can take months, even years for some women. Why, you might ask? What is most necessary for emotional healing is time to deal, time to face the issues and time to work them out. As you all know most mothers are not afforded this time to themselves. They have a baby to take care of and sometimes the grown baby they married needs his ass wiped too. Does this situation sound like something you can just “get over”? I think not. This is why joking about this type of thing is not cool.
Do we joke about soldiers with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder? No.
Do we joke about cancer survivors? No.
Well why don’t we joke about them? It’s because we cannot even begin to understand their internal battles. Saying your c-section was great means nothing to someone who had a terrible one. It doesn’t justify. I’ve never heard of a war veteran lucky enough to not have PTSD crack a joke about one who has, have you? That would be a dick move, right? And hiding behind the “I’m just kidding” makes it even worst. That’s the point.
Though the comments in the book were few, they have impact. For me, it doesn’t bring up a giggle. It reminds me of my wife strapped to the table with her intestines on her chest. I’ll be honest when I read those comments, I lost my shit. It hurt me knowing that it was going to hurt my wife. It reminded me of things that scared me where both she and I were powerless. You “lucky c-section moms” remember this and respect it, always. Be fortunate you didn’t have to deal with this and do not minimize it with a bad joke.
As far as the “rape” issue, it holds water. The rape is not necessarily the c-section. It is the lies told by the physician. It is the physician imposing his “knowledge” to intimidate women into doing something they don’t want. We’re not talking about life saving situations. We are talking about the doctor who says “that baby is tachycardic we need to get it out” when it is not. We are talking about the doctor that threatens the mother into believing the baby is in serious mortal risk, when it is not. We were threatened that our baby would have palsy if we did not have a c-section. We were told my wife’s pelvis was untested. We were told that her uterus had failed. All of that was wrong. We had a successful VBAC the second time around, but we had to fight. I had to make him stay away from my wife and out of the room until the actual birth. So why all his pressure? The doctor just wanted to make it to his daughter’s birthday party. He said it conversation. This is the truth about our experience and it IS a very common tale. The doctor forcing his will upon a woman’s life is why this is comparable to rape. Face it. It is so.
As far as the real intention of this book, sex, personally I found it a failure. Yes, I read it all and It was just flat out bad. Aside from my personal issues with the weakness of this book, 99% of the advice in the book was for the mother, when it should have been more geared toward the couple. It takes two for good sex, right? It just added more responsibility to the already overly hectic life of the modern mother and perpetuates the lame partner. Plus the c-section comments alienate a huge audience. Not worth the joke, I think. I’ve found that the most important thing about sex, is having strong self confidence. Shots at c-sections or ugly-vaginas do not foster that. This is why the book is weak.
Thanks.
Thanks for taking the time to comment. Great example of how The Mominatrix isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.
I’m dismayed to see that you support putting doctors in the no-win situation of choosing between a malpractice suit and rape charges. However, you’ve furthered my respect and admiration for doctors (and L&D nurses) as medical experts who have saved countless lives – perhaps even your wife’s, whether you or she care to entertain that possibility.
I just wanted to say my husband witnessed pretty much the same thing you did. Twice. He even heard the doctor mention her kids’ soccer game the first time. I focused on the side banter. … stuff like “I’d never seen anything like that before … causing me to grab the doctor as they were sending me to recovery to see if there was something wrong with me. … We misunderstood so much of what had been said in that room.
But the thing that he remembers most vividly, or so he tells me now, is the moment when they pulled our children out into the world. The moment he became a dad.
Dear “A dad”
There is no way you are a dad or a male of any kind because no man on the planet would use the term VBAC.
Another clue? Next time you pretend to be a man to be mean on a blog, DON’T USE words “overly hectic life of a modern mother”. Please! Get a life!
Wrong. My husband uses the term VBAC, as well as HBAC Homebirth after cesarean) thanks to living with a woman who was fighting very hard for one while pregnant with #2. Why is it so hard to believe that a man would be interested in his wife’s birth plans when she is pregnant with THEIR child?
Actually, I believe a guy would use the term VBAC. But when guys start making statements that sound like bad ad copy (“overly hectic life of a modern mother”) I do have to wonder if their testicles fully descended.
Hey its okay, I’m confident in who I am. My balls hang low & hairy and my sperm is in good shape too. Its like a koi pond down there.
Overly hectic life is what you moms have. I’m sorry I have a vocabulary and not more of a caveman. Anyway, I’m well aware that I couldn’t do all that you moms do. I’m showing my respect. Would you rather men not progress/evolve. I’m just a fully involve dad and husband. Jealous? Sounds like it..
Michelle and Julie, your comments only tell everyone else that you’ve married someone that leaves it all to you. Doesn’t pay close attention to you. you know, a douche bag. This is what people do when dealing with something foreign to them. They judge, dismiss, and trying to make a joke of it. That sums up this entire issue and this blog post
Michelle, you do if you’re an “equalist male.”
Wow, that’s a ridiculous statement. Any man whose wife has gone through a VBAC would absolutely use the term VBAC. It is a badge of honor.
“From the number of comments all across the web, it is quite clear that the negative experiences of c-sections have greatly out-weighed the positive.”
This is what I meant above by an intellectually dishonest conversation.
The hyperbole starts and the eye rolling begins. Which really does a disservice to those who could use your advocacy and passionate voice.
I am talking about the comments the number of comments posted regarding this issue. On the review in question there were 100+ testimonies. Add that to the calls on the radio show devoted to this issue last night and whatever supportive comments on here makes my point valid.
A small vocal community doesn’t equal the majority of human experience. It’s like saying that 98 people wrote complaint letters about Janet Jackson’s wardrobe malfunction and only 2 wrote in support of it and therefore, we can clearly conclude that 98% of people are offended.
People speak louder when they have a complaint.
In my experience, the emergency c-section is a disappointing end to what could have gone WAY worse. BUT! I had a healthy baby. The. End. I got over it, like every other painful part of my life, and kept on living. I didn’t spend the next x amount of years bemoaning my intervention all across the internet. My scheduled c-section was AMAZING! A room full of women, one of whom was pregnant herself. It was done before I knew it. I loved it. I don’t talk about either, positive of negative, because at the end of the day I have two healthy kids. I am more grateful for that than any Achieved Birth Plan.
Wow – a whole lot of emotion here, and hey Mominatrix, just fyi, I thought it was FUNNY. That being said, I think we moms are definitely disappointed when things don’t go as expected. I know my birth story would not have won the Dr. Sears seal of approval (I seriously seriously sometimes wish he would just GO AWAY) – and I felt really badly about this. WHY? It all worked out swell in the end, and it took me awhile to realize that. Yeah. . our health care system has some major issues – no doubt, but moms have way too much to worry about today to spend a single second feeling badly about how they ultimately gave birth.
x,
Paula
http://www.adhocmom.com
I can’t comment on Mominatrix’s book … I haven’t read it. But as a person who had a really horrible experience with my first birth, which ended in c-section, I can commiserate with the folks who felt helpless and invisible and even victimized. I understand their rage. BUT I think it’s terribly WRONG (verging on crazy) to liken c-section to rape, as I’ve read some are trying to draw such a conclusion. I don’t even think what happened me was medical malpractice … it was just my inexperience coupled with a doctor’s horrific communication skills. The events that took place were actually protocol and warranted. I think in terms of all kinds of medicine, patients will always feel at a disadvantage.
Thing is … I think when you have a c-section there’s a part of you that always wonders if it was really necessary. I’ve chosen to believe mine was, and it’s just part of my kid’s life story now. Hardly anything ever goes as planned (sometimes thankfully).
So, having written all that, I really just wanted to say … I’m pretty sure the phrase “lucky c-section bitches” would have made me laugh hysterically had I read her book first.
Yours is an example of why I feel it’s so important to have implicit trust in your doctor or midwife, along with clear communications. I’ve heard from many mothers who found it difficult to assert themselves and ask for explanations during L&D.
Also, the c-section procedure itself – lying on the table behind the sheet, arms strapped down, oxygen tubes – did make me feel very helpless all three times. Yet another reason why I believe it’s so important to have trust in your doctor when in such a vulnerable position.
Thing is, though, in this day and age it’s not just “your doctor” to deal with. It’s often a group. A woman often doesn’t get much of a “say” in who is available to deliver her baby. My doctor actually did the c-section but the doctor that possibly set it all in motion was someone I had tried to avoid.
To me the real issue is getting all doctors trained to communicate with patients better, and making sure all patients know how to ask questions.
I was shocked to see the discourse around the “lucky bitches” line get so intense. Why not say, “I found this distasteful” or “man I really didn’t like this book” or “that joke really fell flat to me, I have a lot of issues surrounding my c-section.”
Lately I’ve seen a failure to own and acknowledge opinions and how and why those opinions were formed. Instead it’s THIS PERSON IS WRONG or I AM RIGHT or THIS IS OFFENSIVE instead of “this made me feel ______.”
I like your take here. Personally, I found the quote to be funny. Maybe if I had had a c-section, the thought of which truly terrified me, I’d be less apt to chuckle at it.
It terrified me too! Even more than the descriptions of transition, which literally made me feel faint.
Glad The Mominatrix is a good fit for you. She is pretty damn funny.
I am once again amazed and horrified that some women hyper-focused on such a small part of the Mominatrix book. They took what was said way out of context and lost the message of the book which is that SEX for MOMS is GOOD, NATURAL and even fun.
When women attack other women over minor things, it just makes all of us look bad. BTW, I had two c-sections, the first one was emergency. If I could haven given birth in a lab or a test tube I would have as I am a kick ass mother but a horrible breeder.
I just want to know if A Dad was the one making threats on Twitter last night. Equalist, indeed, with your low-hanging, hairy WHATEVERS.
Your statement about the comments ‘all across the web’ that prove your theory is faulty. Your population sample is skewed, as they are self-selected readers–a good percentage of the 100+ commenters, callers to your show, readers of the review and the blog itself are like-minded and/or have a similar opinion/experience. It doesn’t actually make your point valid, in any true meaning of the word. Opening up the question to a broader cross-section of the population would probably tell a less extreme story (on average) and leave you with a different impression.
Well, maybe not you, as you seem pretty convinced that your opinions are fact. The people who are commenting here in this mostly balanced and respectful discussion tell a multi-faceted story and I think that what it ‘proves’ is that there is a LOT of variance.
And if you ARE the guy who makes threats and all that on Twitter–you have NO ROOM to be talking about douche bags, sir.
I guess my equalist, veteran Marine, Fire Fighter husband isn’t much of a man either because he says VBAC, and doesn’t think he is some how superior to me.
I actually regretted my crack about balls, until I returned and saw that A DAD had dragged my husband into the discussion. So I’ll let that crack stand. But not without a parting shot myself: My husband’s super sperm bypassed an IUD. Ha!
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