No Pain, No Gain

8 May 2009 Carita Ellis-Espola

Who knew that even for Mother’s Day we would be able to find you some suitable anti-establishment propaganda? God we’re good. Thanks to Ricki Lake’s newest and most important project to date, ‘The Business of Being Born’ arrived right on time.

I did not make arrangements to sit and watch this movie. The truth is that a ton of large pregnant women made me a lot more comfortable with my oversized bowl of spaghetti, than reruns of Kat VonD and her sexy friends at LA Ink. They generally make me feel bad about both sitting and eating. Ricki, on the other hand, would understand my position, despite the fact that she totally sold me out and denounced the beauty of bigness years ago. After spending the eighties and nineties giving society the finger with her success despite her size, I was Pissed with a capital P when she decided she “liked herself better the new way”. Later, I found out she was dating her personal trainer and then tuned her out completely. Chubby self esteem across America suffered when she started talking shit, so she was lucky I even gave her my two hours. Had time not effectively healed the wound, I would’ve taken my bitterness and spaghetti elsewhere.

Fortunately for her, I had heard about this project. I had also heard that some people were outraged by it. Outrage in response to anti-establishment propaganda? Bring it on.
The establishment got kicked in their man nuts this time. This was not just Lifetime Channel baby story bullshit about the beauty of natural child birth. Don’t get me wrong, there was plenty of birthing beauty, but the big push was a staged attack on the current system of hospital birth experiences. They included heat seeking missiles that directly targeted the shallow trend of elective c-sections. Somewhere in the middle, the attack became a slaughter that chopped the heads off of some big name celebrities (Victoria Beckham & Catherine Zeta-Jones to name a few) and made them look as though they had scheduled their children’s births between happy hour cocktails. The movie also introduced me to a term I’d never heard: too posh to push. Ouch. That’s just mean. But they didn’t stop at celebs and cesarean sections- oh no. They went on about how obstetricians are only surgeons who end up robbing women of their best chance at a life altering experience.

Start getting pissy right about here if you must, because I have to say that they certainly made their case. The innately flawed division of health care that is specifically designed to service mothers and babies was proven to be a cash cow, not to mention, a gross insinuation that lacks faith in the power of women’s bodies. Don’t even get me started on how decades of “helpful” birth medicines and procedures have damaged kids big time (some of that footage was the worst).According to the movie, systematically replacing skilled, empathetic women with degree jockeys for facilitating an otherwise natural process is one of the oldest hustles in America. It seems we have been duped with fear, for years, yet again. Unfortunately, that’s not the kicker. The most insulting piece of information that has been sedated and laid on its back by doctors, is that pushing a baby out raises oxytocin levels higher than any street drug- a one time, indescribable fusion of pleasure pain, the likes of which, only those who have done it, will ever see. Basically, it’s the wickedest orgasm ever! Orgasm? Now I’m pissed. I’m all about the orgasm.

Speaking as a person who has given birth, not only was I disappointed that I clearly missed a spectacular orgasm, but I pretty much felt like shit throughout the movie. They did a fantastic job explaining how there were so many alternate choices and how you were screwed if you had a baby anytime in the last hundred years. Well they didn’t say that last part, but that’s how I felt. There was more than a little documented proof that showed how women have been so blindly convinced of how horribly unbearable the experience would be, that they would be unable to do it without medical intervention. (BTW- at one time in history doctor’s used actual blindfolds. WTF?) It’s been going on so long, that our culture does nothing but perpetuate the myth. The reality shows that portray mothers writhing around in complete agony with tubes, monitors and high-tech preventative procedures, do nothing but contribute to the myth. No wonder everyone’s pissy. People love those shows and no one likes to consider what could have been after it’s too late. I sure don’t. Thanks to Ricki and her movie friends, I feel so dumb for being so scared. Birth happens hundreds of times a day. I never once questioned the uncomfortable factory process I was assigned to. The choice was healthy baby= hospital. Even though friends told me that their backs still hurt when it rained, and that their legs buckled, even years after having the six foot needle gored into their spines; I welcomed the epidural with open arms. I let someone stick a huge needle IN MY SPINE. It hurt like a bitch, but I was convinced it was the lesser evil. If I was able to withstand that, whose to say what I could have tolerated? Of course, I was scared to death of excruciating pain, but there was also the possibility of unparalleled pleasure? That information just wasn’t available.

We as Americans haven’t questioned enough, but now is the time. Now that everyone has accepted how ass backwards our sorry healthcare system is, we have to get tough. We know from fear dammit. Fear has crippled way too much of what we say and do; it’s enough already. For instance, there was a long, mean media finger pointing at Angelina Jolie over her choice. When she chose to have a simple birth somewhere in Africa rather than have the golden seed plucked from her womb in Hollywood, the media response was like a witch hunt. You would have thought she publicly squatted over a cactus patch in Tazmania. Guess what you polished, tan, evil, media bastards? The rest of the world does it more like she did. Here’s another newsflash: more babies survive in those places. Do you know how high the infant mortality rates are here compared to MOST other developed countries? I’m not going statisticize you to death, but its fucking high. Not only do natural births with a midwife cost much less than half of super sterilized hospital ones, but they can also be safer. Now THAT is how you go green. Say what you will about Angelina, but I see her as a blessed and gifted genius who just so happens to be hot hot hot. Haters can suck it.

As interesting as all of this was, I was going to need more incentive to sit and hear about the beauty of birth for 2.5 hours. I had already missed my orgasm, so what would be the point? After all this granola flavored enlightenment, I still wanted my orgasm. I’m all about the orgasm. I had no idea I would finally get it. Ricki gave me my orgasm- she was naked and everything! (I’ve always wanted to say that.) What I mean is, she gave me an orgasm, but much like the actual childbirth experience itself, it wasn’t the orgasm I expected. It started with her showing me and the whole world, her very own naked, fat body. I was f-ing floored, but it didn’t stop there. Dude, she pushed her baby out in a regular bathtub. It was fucking awesome- especially her naked, fat body. Thank you Ricki. Thank you thank you. After all these years, you made things right between us. Sometime later, the climax peaked when her pregnant friend, the one actually making the film, got rushed to the ER to have an emergency c-section. Yes, my orgasm was redemption. Unintentionally, they proved that; shit happens, everything’s not about me and what I missed, correct information moves society forward, women and mother’s are the strongest, most incredible people on the planet- period.

In short, if you’re a mother, a father, a woman, a pregnant woman, or just someone who gets off on other people’s orgasms (regardless of origin) – check this out, even if you don’t usually get into the whole ‘child birth is awesome’ scene. Seriously, let’s not make this about you. It will be worth it, if for no other reason than to give your own mother the best gift of all- genuine empathy. However, if the power of childbirth is a little too awesome for you and your own stomach; I guarantee you know someone who would prefer the truth about how things really work. You know what mom always says about the truth… “If you can’t get the truth, you’re not asking the right questions. If the right questions don’t get the truth, punch him in the mouth until it falls out.” Wait- I think it was me who said that.

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