the times | Wednesday February 23 2022 27
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Buy prints or signed copies of Times cartoons from our Print Gallery at timescartoons.co.uk or call 020 7711 7826The joy of childbirth is being ousted by fear
We must invest in maternity care, support families and stop the horror stories if the birth rate is not to fall even lower
new parents can recover and bond
with their child.
Meanwhile, many British women,
with so little support, can flounder.
Those who have one child may be
unsure they want to repeat the
experience. Books with well-meaning
instructions and advice on
milestones your baby should be
reaching often cause more anxiety
than reassurance.
Britain may have better maternity
leave than in America, but parenting
can look like a thankless uphill
struggle in the early years. Women,
now educated to assume they are
equal to their male peers, are still
made to feel guilty if they don’t focus
selflessly on their children, in the
way that they were once expected to
be compliant wives. A genre of books
and Instagram accounts focus on
“slummy mummies” who can only
cope after several glasses of wine.
The government needs to
prioritise birth and young families.
The NHS must start investing in
maternity care and ministers should
upgrade subsidised childcare, in
which Britain lags second last in
Europe. But we also need to talk
more about the elation of giving
birth and the enjoyment of having
children rather than the exhaustion
of looking after them. Many women
don’t feel maternal, but if they do,
they need more encouragement and
help and fewer horror stories.targets to limit caesareans to focus
instead on safe births.
Even at the turn of the century
women often had a more reassuring
time. They were usually given a
personalised midwife who guided
them through the process. Now they
are likely to be surrounded by
overstretched strangers as they open
their legs. Last week the Royal
College of Midwives petitioned
Downing Street about plummeting
numbers, with two thirds of itsmembers saying they are not
satisfied with the safety of care they
deliver.
There is very little back-up after
the birth either. Most new mothers
stay in hospital only for a couple of
days, there are antenatal classes but
no postnatal sessions, and many
aren’t regularly checked by a health
worker despite being at heightened
risk of depression. Most of Europe
has better postpartum care. In
France new mothers can spend two
weeks in hospital as they learn how
to breastfeed and nurture their
infant. German midwives visit daily
for up to eight weeks to help with the
baby, cook and do housework so thatare a compassionate profession”.
The series is about the worst cases.
While we must improve the birthing
experience we should make it clear
that it can and should be one of the
most extraordinary, empowering
days of your life even if, like I did,
you end up in labour for 30 hours.
More than 600,000 babies are born
a year, the vast majority successfully.
But my 32-year-old neighbour who
runs marathons and has set up her
own company is having second
thoughts about motherhood. The
pandemic has made it worse, she
says, as her friends faced going to
scans and giving birth without their
partner. No wonder birth rates have
dropped to a UK low of 1.53 children
per woman, below the rate required
to keep the population stable. Partly
it’s due to the young worrying about
the prohibitive expense of raising
children, spiralling housing costs and
the lack of financial help for
childcare. But it may also be because
having children is so often seen as
joyless.
Younger women, most of whom
have never been near a hospital since
they were born, must worry about
such a medieval-seeming event. For
decades women have been told they
should push unless they are posh
enough to afford a caesarean. They
are made to feel like failures if they
don’t have a natural birth. It was only
last week that the NHS axed itsT
he rain was pouring down
and the winds were
howling around the car
when Lauryn Vartan
realised she was about to
give birth at a roundabout near
Felixstowe. As her husband
screeched to a halt and battled to
open the door, he could see the
baby’s head. With nothing but a
dressing gown cord pulled from his
wife’s overnight bag, he delivered
their daughter, Florence. But the
most extraordinary part of this
Storm Eunice tale was Lauryn’s
words afterwards. “I feel total
euphoria,” she said. “Such a lovely
feeling ... such a lovely experience.”
It’s rare now to hear anyone
publicly eulogise giving birth. The
event is increasingly portrayed as a
nightmare. Millennials and
Generation Z are bombarded with
stories, books and films about how
demeaning, demanding and even
dangerous it is to have a baby and
how shattering it will be to nurture a
child for the first few years.
This is Going to Hurt, the BBC’s
adaptation of Adam Kay’s memoirs
of his time working in “brats and
twats” — the obstetrics and
gynaecology department — is a huge
incentive to take contraceptives. It’s
meant to be funny, but it’s traumatic
if you’ve ever given birth or thought
you might be tempted. The stirrups,
forceps, stitches and buckets of blood
are all true to life, but it’s the casual
way pregnant women are patronised,
the exhaustion of junior doctors,
arrogance of consultants and
indifference of midwives that are
terrifying rather than entertaining.
It’s a war zone, and looks worse on
screen than it sounded in the book.
This mirrors what some new
mothers feel about their
dehumanising birthing experience,where they are expected to feel
grateful for having produced the next
generation while stoically bearing
the pain. Milli Hill, founder of the
Positive Birth Movement, calls the
drama “women’s trauma being
played for laughs”.
The system “is so overstretched
and you’re so overworked”, a midwife
friend explained, “it’s hard to feel
endlessly nurturing even though weYounger women must
worry about such a
medieval event
In France new mothers
can spend two weeks
in hospital to learn
Alice
Thomson@alicettimes