I’ve been reading a lot of pregnancy and parenting magazines lately. The occasional piece of advice on what I can do now to make labour easier almost makes it worth wading through the rest: relentless pressure to buy Stuff and soft-focus images of a family life I know I can never achieve. Then I turn to the advice page and find a real slap in the face.
I’m six months pregnant and my partner refuses to be at the birth. I feel so let down – will I really have to go through labour on my own?
I’m not a trained advice columnist, but I do know a bit about how it feels to be facing labour without a partner’s full support. If this woman came to me for advice, I’d reassure her that she doesn’t need to go through it completely alone, but there’s something else it’s just as important for her to hear. She’s allowed to feel let down; she’s allowed to feel that her partner has left her to face what may well look like a terrifying ordeal with no support. If she hasn’t already done so, she should talk to her partner about how she feels – women often feel pressure to keep their feelings under wraps, to deny them in the interests of “avoiding conflict” or because asking to be listened to might be seen as “selfish”.
But what’s the first thing the trained advice columnist recommends? She suggests trying to see it from the partner’s point of view, followed by a string of reasons why fathers-to-be are afraid of labour. Some are valid, like the fear he’ll let his partner down by fainting when she needs him most; others less so, like the fear that witnessing the birth will put him off sex. All of them miss the point.
It makes no difference to this woman why her partner doesn’t want to be present. She’s the one going through labour, he won’t support her, she feels let down. That’s the problem she’s asked for advice about, and the advice to see things from his point of view is suspiciously close to telling her that her feelings aren’t as valid as his.
Chances are, she’s already tried to see it from his point of view. Women are schooled fairly hard at “seeing it from his point of view” – I managed to skip most of my female-socialisation modules, but empathy was one of the ones that stuck. A tendency to look for the other fellow’s motivations stood me in good stead when it came to creating characters in my novels, but it also led me to cut manipulative partners far more slack than they deserved and to make concessions to people who had no intention of making concessions in return.
Empathy is an essential ingredient in a healthy intimate relationship, but it has to come from both sides. If her partner tried looking at it from her point of view, he might behave differently. He might recognise that whatever fears he has about labour, hers are likely to be worse because it’s her body that’s involved. He might see that after everything she’s gone through already in the course of this pregnancy, supporting her during labour is the least he can do in return. And even if he concludes that he cannot face the delivery room, he can understand how let down she feels and possibly support her in other ways so she knows he’s still there for her.
But no. All these things are beyond him because he’s just a man. Men aren’t expected to show any empathy, especially not when there are women around to show enough for two. She has to see things from his point of view in order to relieve him of the burden of seeing things from hers.
When empathy is a one-way street, it becomes all about his feelings. He doesn’t want to be there when she gives birth, and she is expected to understand and respect that. She wants his support, but he is under no obligation to understand or respect that. In fact, she shouldn’t even mention how much she wants him there: “It’s better if you don’t put him under pressure.”
Why offer such lousy advice? I understand that the advice needs to concentrate on things the woman can do, rather than things her partner ought to be doing, but there’s still plenty of advice that can be offered that doesn’t involve making her feelings subordinate to his. Being honest about her feelings means risking conflict and cutting her losses to make birth plans that don’t include him may make him feel left out, but neither of these things will cause the same long-term harm as convincing herself that her feelings don’t matter and her only option is to understand and support his.
Or are women always responsible for looking after men’s feelings? Even when they’re pregnant, and even according to other women? If I wasn’t already a feminist, that would be enough to convert me.
I am just gobsmacked by the man who refuses to be at the birth. Delicate male (in)sensitivities should pale into insignificance besides the pain and effort that the woman has to go through.
My advice to her would be that she yells at him really REALLY loudly “I DON’T HAVE THE OPTION NOT TO BE AT THE BIRTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Why offer such advice??
Because, well, you know. What he sees his baby come from “down there,” she’s, umm, just not sexy anymore!
Of course, you say! How could I have misunderstood the man’s discomfort???
“Down there” is for sex. Having a baby is iiiiiiiiiicccccckkkkkyyyyy and traumatizing…..waaahhhhhhhhhhhh!
[Note to self: some guys are such a bunch of big f—ing losers I wonder why I bother to associate myself with them.]
Well, I’m buying this. When a woman is having your kid and she says she needs you there, you suck it up and you be there. And you plaster a smile on your face or a look of concern, whatever is appropriate, and you say everything you think she needs to hear. She comes first, the baby comes next, and your feelings aren’t even in the picture. Stupid son of a bitch.
My daughter was born after 21 hours of labor and then a C-section. There was a snowstorm in Chicago on April 5th and the anethesist didn’t get in until about 18 hours into it. My wife had quite an ordeal until he finally got in and gave her an epidural. They asked me at the last if I wanted to sit down past the little towel screen they put up across her stomach and watch the actual incision and removal. I said, “No, I think my wife needs me up here,” because she was pretty scared about getting cut open. My son was born after about 2.5 hours of labor, only 15 minutes of which occurred in the hospital. She damn near had him in the front seat of the car. When we got there they took one look at here and said “Go get a gown on now, Dad, or you’re going to miss it.” No anethesia at all for that one; by the time we got her to the hospital her peripheral veins had collapsed and they couldn’t get a hit. I sat at her head and held her hand for that one, too. The medical personnel were asking us for her medical history, and when I told them, “This is our second; our first was by Caesarian” one of the medical folks said “VBAC!”, everyone’s head popped up and they all just froze and looked at each other for a second. But it all worked out fine in the end.
Nick asked:
“Or are women always responsible for looking after men’s feelings? Even when they’re pregnant, and even according to other women?”
The answer is so clearly yes that I don’t know why you bother asking. I am having a bad week on this front, however, I can report that my husband has never refused to be present at the birth of our children, including the extremely scary birth of my first daughter (and he did almost faint but he bucked it up and somehow persevered).
Best advice that could have been given: Get your partner to talk to a dad who was present so that he can hear what it’s like from another man, and how rewarding and special it is to witness a birth. In the mean time, find a doula who will be there regardless so that, even if he’s present, your partner won’t feel pushed to do things that he probably isn’t competent to undertake.
In fairness to the advice columnist, she did suggest both those things later in the response. But she started out by asking the woman to understand how difficult this was for her partner, which set all manner of alarms ringing for me.
Another solution is that if your partner is waffling, find someone else, so you get at least some of the emotional assurance you need. My best friend wasn’t sure her baby’s dad was up to it, so she asked me. I was honored. The three of us attended some of the birth classes together, which was kind of weird, as I’m just conventional enough to not want give the impression that we were some sort of menage a trois. But it turned out to be a non-issue, as there were a lot of birth partners there who were not dads. Mothers, sisters, best friends, etc. As it happened, the father did choose to be there, and I was too. It wasn’t awkward in the slightest. I stayed with her in the hospital room while he’d run out to get a hamburger at the coffee shop (it was a long labor). Having birthed two children myself, I pretty much knew what she was going through and what to say or do, which my friend told me later was invaluable. Even the dad thanked me, and told me how much he had appreciated my presence and the support I gave him, too.
As far as the “ick” factor goes, I’m not a medical person in the slightest. They only births I had ever participated were my own. Frankly, it was radically different from the other side. It was a little disturbing watching my best buddy get her tummy sliced open (ultimately she had a caesarian), although not from a potential sex appeal angle, as that is not our relationship. But I got through it and was still there for my friend.
So maybe the best solution is not your partner or husband, but a sister, best friend, mother, or someone else. Or perhaps that person in addition to your partner or husband.
By the way, she had a beautiful baby girl.
Certainly, I understand that it is grossly unfair to expect women to always be the empathizers and men, basically, never. On the other hand, it might not occur to a lot of women (or men, for that matter) why a man might dread the experience. I vividly remember going to my first birthing class and running into a former colleague whose husband was clearly not happy to be there. When it came time to do the introductions, his was something like, “Hi, I’m Bill and I don’t want to be here. I hate hospitals and everything connected to them and I don’t see why I have to be present when I’m going to be in the way much more than I could possibly be helpful.” In short, he was afraid, an emotion that most men (in my experience anyway) suppress better than any other, and usually act out through some other obnoxious conduct. Nonetheless, he did show up.
One of my sisters (blessed when I married my wife, she has 5, I had none) husbands had a softball game the day their first was born. He put his wife in an ambulance, and went to play ball. Now this was 25 years ago, but heck… the amazing thing is she had two more children with him. (Then separated.) It was wrong in the days when fathers were not allowed in the delivery room, I can imagine that one may not be all up on the birthing process itself, (though I found it amazing) however to not be dedicated to share and support a partner would have to have some very compelling reasoning.
Nick, you seem much kinder than my initial reaction to your post, I appreciate your resistance to judgment. However the insistence that the mother should accommodate this man seems ridiculous. She ought to be wondering if this is where he bails, what will it take in our relationship when something difficult comes up? It will undoubtedly be her fault if he has an affair, the kids are poorly behaved, the accounts don’t balance, she is not in the mood for his needs… With all that is going on with her having a baby it is tragic she has to wrestle with this news. Blessings.
It would be interesting to give the columnist a link to this blog…
It sounds to me like the advice-seeker had two problems. Problem one, which she came out and wrote about, was that her partner didn’t want to be there at the birth. Problem two, which she left implicit in her message, was that she was worried about WHY her partner didn’t want to be there at the birth, and whatever lame excuses he had offered didn’t ring true.
The advice columnist is sensitive to these things. She realized that the implicit problem – “I’m scared that he doesn’t love me” – was more significant than the explicit problem to her questioner. So she spent some time reassuring her that he probably does still love her and just has some bozo issue in his own stupid head, and she doesn’t need to worry about it overmuch.
Then she moves on to the explicit question, and provides supportive information.
Rock nails it.
“So she spent some time reassuring her that he probably does still love her and just has some bozo issue in his own stupid head, and she doesn’t need to worry about it overmuch.”
“and she doesn’t need to worry about it overmuch.”?!
Robert,
You have got to be kidding?
Blessings.
Rock: I think we’re broadly in agreement. I try for a fairly cold and rational style in my posts here, but if I was in her shoes those same worries would definitely be going through my mind.
Robert: Even if she comes to understand that her partner’s reasons for refusing to support her are his own problem, she still has the problem of feeling let down, which she mentions right there in the letter.
It’s like the advice columns in “women’s” magazines about problems in relationships. Invariably, it’s all the woman’s fault for failing to accept the man for being what he was, a man. Shame on her, for wanting to “change” his biologically-endowed behavior!
There is everything wrong with her, ergo she has to “fix” herself to deserve her SO.
“She ought to be wondering if this is where he bails, what will it take in our relationship when something difficult comes up? It will undoubtedly be her fault if he has an affair, the kids are poorly behaved, the accounts don’t balance, she is not in the mood for his needs…
Rock nails it. ”
————————————
oh, yeah….
If I were giving this woman advice, I would tell her to, in the words of the immortal Dan Savage, DTMFA!
The only advice I’d like to see is for the two people to talk about it. Men are not generally socialized in our culture to talk abuot their feelings, so chances are, if the woman does not initiate the conversation, it won’t be discussed. If it’s not discussed, there is no chance for the empathy to be a 2 way street. Is that sexist? Maybe. It’s also probably an accurate prediction of how the situation is going to unfold, given how we are socially conditioned.
And women are just as selfish as men, don’t kid yourself about that. We are all humans here, and humans are inherently self-interested.
For me, learning the “empathy” skill was very much an exercise in critical thinking and deliberate way of putting on another persons shoes. I don’t know that this is entirely a social or gender issue, I do think it is very much a core personality trait. Some people find the “other point of view” very accessible emotionally, some are observant enough to deliberately think through the other side. Others are quite comfortable with only their own perspective and see no need for any others.
I think Nick raises some valid points about empathy and how some of the authors advice, if taken too far or selectively (always read the full article before passing judgement on anything) could be damaging and a slightly mysoginistic. I also think that some of the comments are far more … heated than the article deserves. Save your anger-energy for those who truly deserve it. Any editorial/advice article has to be read with a grain of salt. Some articles require larger salt-servings than others.
Wookie,
What a bunch of nonsense. Men are not socialized to share their feelings? You have to be kidding. They share them all the time, especially around other men. Most men have heard them on the job, in bars, on the ball field, and men share feelings plenty, it is often a different message than when the girls are around, then they share a different set, we know because at one time most of us have done it. It is true there may be times when the macho side gets in the way with partners; however he had no problem sharing his feelings when he married her, “promise to support in good times and bad, sickness in health….” He definitely had no problems getting over sharing his feelings when they conceived. And, as I said earlier there would have to be a compelling reason not to support your partner in this situation. I do not like needles, I really dislike them, I have passed out twice getting injections into wounds. I give platelets on a regular basis because I can; I tell myself that the person with cancer has to deal with a lot more than I do and this way I can share in that with them. This does not make me better, I just am grateful, a lot… for surviving my first life and this is one way I feel I can share the grace I received.
That is what we do when we want to be in relationship. We sacrifice the “I want” for those we love. I am sure she could say, “I am willing to sacrifice sharing the birth of this miracle we have created and do it alone,” indeed she may have to. However starting from the perspective that she sees it from his point of view is only half of it. The other half is, “I do understand, I see how you feel, I got on this ride together, are you willing to see it from mine?” If a little blood is not your thing, don’t look there. I looked away at the episiotomy, (it gave me the willies) If the person I care most about asks me to participate in her life I am going to be there. That is what I signed up for and that is it. She has stood by me when many would have cut and run. She is not asking for him to join her in a class on finding her feminine side or water ballet if he can’t swim, she is having their baby and it is traumatic and painful and a fantastic opportunity to see something that is like nothing else in the world. Empathy, my back side.
Your suggestion that we need to get more empathy is lame at best. (Send me the entire article) As many on this blog have pointed out to me I take it to the extreme when looking to protect others rights, (sex offenders etc.) empathy we have, some would argue sense is what we lack and that may be fair. However I have yet to be as disturbed by anything on this blog as this man not supporting his wife when she needs him. That is childish, self absorbed and not in support of the one person (other than God) that is the most sacred relationship given to us to share. What part of “one flesh” is not clear? What Part of “let no man separate?” What part of “cleave to her” is not absolutely crystal? I hate, really hate to get macho, but suck it up and stand up on his hind legs and grow up. She needs him and that is enough.
Oh yeah, as far as losing that loving feeling after witnessing the child come through the birth canal, they are probably seeing it the right way for the first time. Get over it.
Sort of sorry for the rant, Blessings.
Rock, maybe I was unclear.
When was the last time a man was *encouraged*, socially, to say “I’m not going to do that, I’m scared.” Or “I’m really depressed from being laid off.” How about “That really moved me.” Maybe “I cried at the end of that movie.” … any number of things that are considered “girlie” emotions. Men are socialized to share things like “That girl is HOT!” or “I love beer/NASCAR/sex.”
I’m not saying men don’t feel these things, I’m saying that in North America, they are not socially encouraged to share them. It’s like pulling teeth to get most men of my aquaintance to admit to any emotion, and it’s easier to get them to admit to anger, fustration or horniness than depression, fear or something warm and fuzzy. Audience (barroom admissions versus bedroom admissions) is only part of the barrier.
Men are expected to be jovial, strong, “warriors” (wether weekend, physical or spiritual, depending on your social circle). They are not supposed to have what might be percieved as weakness.
I might feel scorn for someone who was willing to participate in conception and is now backing out of the delivery room. It might also make me writhe with anger that a man might “loose that lovin’ feelin'” after seeing the birthcanal stretch to deliver. But if I expect him to acknowledge that she is going to feel let down, abandoned and scared, than I must also admit that that he has a right to feel intimiated, helpless and frightened by what might happen.
So if this woman’s man “refuses” to be at the birth, is he also going to “refuse” to change poop diapers, get up for 4 a.m. feedings, talk the the child about sex and save for its education? Sounds like this guy isn’t much good as dad potential.
My wife and I are working on the whole reproduction thing right now, and I wouldn’t miss the birth for the world. I don’t think I’ll be there getting a med-school view of things, but it’s pretty damn important to be there. And I’ll change the poop diapers … but I don’t know that I’ll like that a whole lot.
Of course, part of the thought may be that seeing it from his point of view might make it easier to convince him to change his mind. If she finds out why he doesn’t want to witness the birth, she might be able to better understand how to convince him that it would be a good thing.
Hi Rock…I’m curious, what did you mean by your “first life” in this sentence?
“This does not make me better, I just am grateful, a lot… for surviving my first life and this is one way I feel I can share the grace I received. ”
To me this sounds like reincarnation, but as far as I’m aware most Christian denominations don’t believe in that. Does your particular branch of Christianity believe in the possibility of reincarnation?
part of the thought may be that seeing it from his point of view might make it easier to convince him to change his mind
Why fuck around with mind-reading? Why not just ask him why he doesn’t want to be there?
Mythago, I would ask but I wouldn’t trust his “surface” answer.
If we really want to decode what’s going on here, here’s a theory: they are both frightened and scared about a momentous experience that is painful and out of their control. She has no choice but to be there; obviously he doesn’t HAVE to be there and so gets to CHOOSE, possibly, of course, at great cost to his partner and to himself.
On the other hand, isn’t it just possible that the woman in this scenario might be “expecting too much” strength from someone who is not really in a superior position insofar as controlling the experience is concerned?
Sexist assumptions often abound in both parties to a relationship, and they are often unconscious. Sure, I think this guy should be there, for the benefit of everyone, and preferably, he should read a few books (with her), get a copy of the birthing plan in order to advocate on her behalf with the nurses and doctors, and so on. Maybe she hasn’t been sharing the “details” with him and he feels especially helpless. Who knows. But I would bet that wookie is dead on — this guy is afraid — of the unknown, of his own incompetence, and just possibly, of REALLY letting his partner down by screwing up. None of these feelings is good, and I can imagine many men not eager to share them, if indeed they are even willing to admit to them in the first place.
So her feelings of being let down are valid, but perhaps she also has feelings that somehow her partner will serve as the Prince Charming of the maternity suite, rescuing her from pain and intrusive health care personnel, etc. — and let me tell you, these are not realistic.
I am sorry for the confusing wording. In Christianity there is not reincarnation in the commonly understood sense, as it is believed that the soul does not die. There is the “New Life” (Born again) in Christ and the Holy Spirit when one accepts Christ, the first life that I speak of is when I was in my addiction and very destructive to myself and to others around me. It was a horrible time, and a completely different life than I have now. Blessings.
The basic truth of it is that childbirth is freaky. I’ve never experienced it for myself, but I do plan on doing so. Am I looking forward to it? Hell no. Do I want to have children and raise a family with my SO who I love? Hell yes. Does he want that as well? Yes, he does. In order for us to have that, I have to endure pregnancy and childbirth, both of which certainly are no walk in the park, and he has to support me through both, because I am using my body to give life to the child that we both want.
I don’t see how empathy really comes in to the equation. My SO is very squeamish, and I have a very low pain tolerance. He needs to empathize with my pain and physical discomfort, and I need to empathize with his mental and emotional discomfort. But that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t care if he doesn’t come with me for the birth of our child. It just means that we need to love, care for, and support one another through a difficult, nasty, life-changing experience.
If I’ve gotta push the damn thing out, he’s gotta hold my hand.
The short answer for the woman whose husband doesn’t want to attend the birth is, bring a doula.
Men have historically been excluded from childbirth because they have no experience in the matter, and one could argue that male doctors and husbands do a poor job of facilitating birth when compared to the traditional presence: midwives, mothers, sisters, aunts, and friends. Even men who are trying to do their best, who have “the book” and marked the pages they found inspiring, and refer to it, are sort-of stumbling in the dark–not a comfortable role.
As a labor and delivery nurse and a mother of 4, I think it’s much easier for a woman to say, “Yes, I know what you’re feeling. I felt that. It’s part of the process,” to encourage a woman. Men, on the other hand, are more inclined to go get the anesthesiologist. I truly think the rise in cesareans over the past 30 years has been influenced by dads seeing how difficult it really is, and not realizing how strong women truly are.
I’m not saying that dads shouldn’t be there. I’m just saying that expecting them to serve as doulas is often unrealistic.
Yes, and Margaret Meade watched them go off alone by the river and bite a stick or a long peice of fabric returning with the baby. Blessings.
Shamhat is right about men feeling completely overwhelmed. That’s how my husband felt the first time, and now he is trying to be better prepared for the next time. When you are in L&D (and sometimes even in the doctor’s office) you see it straight away: the doctor (and sometimes the nurse) appeals to the male’s fear and ignorance about childbirth to persuade his partner to do it the doctor’s way, to agree to be induced, to lessen the pain, to use forceps and on and on. If this woman is a first-timer she would be better off knowing, at least, how unhelpful her partner most likely would be with these aspects of the process, other than giving moral support and being there to witness the birth, obviously both very important things, but maybe not what she is expecting.
and one could argue that male doctors and husbands do a poor job of facilitating birth when compared to the traditional presence: midwives, mothers, sisters, aunts, and friends.
“One could argue” all kinds of things, but experience in childbirth comes from, well, experience in childbirth. And positive experience, as anyone who’s dealt with a female nurse of the less supportive variety would attest.
Mythago, I would ask but I wouldn’t trust his “surface” answer.
I wouldn’t necessarily, either, but it would be interesting to hear the excuse.
Here is the thing I don’t get.
The woman DOES NOT GET to choose to not experience this. Unless you are going to completely abdicate all future childrearing to her (by which I also include ALL possible decisions that might affect the child/ren) YOU FUCKING SHOW UP. This is not about “sucking it up” or “being a man,” this is about the start of responsible, mature parenting. When the baby starts projectile vomiting green mucus at 3 am, you don’t get to be “too uncomfortable.” You cuddle that baby and calm it as best you can while you get the pediatrician on the phone, and yes, get covered in baby vomit.
Parenting is not all cute smiles and reading stories and playing with legos. It’s also about pain. Trauma. REAL HUMAN SUFFERING. So the fact that it starts off that way makes sense to me. It completely opens your eyes to what is in store.
The second part is that my DH is a complete blood-phobic. We have to blindfold him just so they can draw blood at his physical, because otherwise he just completely breaks down in a panic attack. Yet, somehow, he was able to be there during my c-section. Yes, he closed his eyes for most of it. Yes, he was humming when they were using the suction. But he sat by me, he held my hands, and when he hummed, he hummed the song “You are my sunshine.” Over and over, through tightly shut eyes and above the rising panic which was making him get sweaty palms and shaky hands, he just kept on holding me. Telling me he loved me, that I wasn’t alone, and that our baby and I were going to be just fine.
To this day, I don’t think that I could say that he could have been more involved in that birth. I didn’t need someone to give me a play-by-play or cut the umbilical cord or even watch the proceedings. I just needed someone to make me feel stronger, to make me feel loved, to let me know I wasn’t all alone.
And that’s the point of the dad being at the birth. It’s his first, big, public announcement of how much he is committed to the woman who he created a child with, and to that child’s well-being. It may very well be stressful, but so is being completely alone while in the worst pain you may ever experience, knowing that the person who from this day foward will have a claim on this child as well has chosen to not even to endure the DISCOMFORT of having to deal with the very real pain, squickiness and gore of childbirth.
I don’t really know if there’s a direct correlation between someone being present at the birth and being committed to caring for a child. I’d need to see some data on this, i.e., more than a “feeling” that that’s the case. I was one of those women who was lucky enough to want to watch my own daughter being born AND had a husband who was into it as well.
Unfortunately, many men do not feel comfortable watching birth or watching someone in pain. Many women who haven’t had children also feel the same way.
This is the advice that I would give:
I can’t tell you how common it is for men to feel overwhelmed and frightened at the idea of witnessing their children being born. And each time men express this, the women carrying their children feel angry, hurt, abandoned, and generally deflated, a reaction that makes complete sense.
There are a number of ways to handle this situation. Firstly, begin to approach this dilemma not as a personal reflection of you, your relationship to the father of your children or necissarily predictive of how he will act once your child is born. The reasons why men are freaked out by the birth experience are many and none have to do with you personally or how much they will love their children.
Here are some actions to take.
1) Suggest the idea that he stay by the head. He can be there for you for support, and not have to witness the crowning or the actual birth. Try to remember that there are a lot of women who don’t like to watch their own birth either.
2) Have him talk to his other dad’s who were in the room and dads who weren’t in the room. Sometimes it helps to watch MORE videos of birth even though they can be scary.
3) Talk to him about your own fears about giving birth and needing him there for you – to make eye contact, to hold your hand, to tell you that the pain will pass, etc., Be specific about what you need from him in the room.
3) Suggest the idea of hiring a doulah who can help you manage the pain and handle all the messy stuff with you while your husband handles other forms of support – getting water, making phone calls, whatever.
4) Make peace with the knowledge that the father of your child is a wuss about blood and pain and may always be.