Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:Trigger warning: this article contains a story of a difficult birth, and a baby in peril (but with a happy resolution): https://www.newyorker.com/science/elements/the-durable-feeling-that-a-child-is-always-at-risk

"We on the baby team try to hold the peril of these moments inside ourselves, because the way we communicate about risk and injury around birth can have lifelong consequences for parents and children. If we get this communication wrong, studies suggest, the family can be beset by what pediatricians call vulnerable-child syndrome: a durable feeling that this particular child is always at risk, and an irresistible urge to shelter the kid that can actually hamper his development and harm his relationship with his parents."

I was torn by this article- on the one hand, in my postpartum stay, I had a nurse terrorize me about my baby's weight loss (which was, actually, normal), and that led to months of anxiety about her weight, so I see where this doctor is coming from. On the other hand, she lost me at the end, when she described being less than honest and forthcoming about the danger the baby had been in. As a mother and, well, an adult, I want to know the truth.

The doctor wasn’t dishonest. She employed “thoughtful communication” and chose her words carefully so as not to frighten the parents unnecessarily. Cardiac arrest means the same thing as “heart stopped beating.” One sounds scarier to the patient.

"We may not ever say “cardiac arrest,” or “hypoxic-ischemic encephalopathy,” or even “resuscitation,” but we want this mother to know her son’s story. Are we dissembling? I do not think so. If things had gone another way and we had to share bad news, we certainly would have been honest and forthcoming. But this baby, like so many babies before him and so many babies to come, was perfectly fine."

This implies to me that the doctor realized she was not lying, but also not being completely honest.

Anonymous wrote:Trigger warning: this article contains a story of a difficult birth, and a baby in peril (but with a happy resolution): https://www.newyorker.com/science/elements/the-durable-feeling-that-a-child-is-always-at-risk

"We on the baby team try to hold the peril of these moments inside ourselves, because the way we communicate about risk and injury around birth can have lifelong consequences for parents and children. If we get this communication wrong, studies suggest, the family can be beset by what pediatricians call vulnerable-child syndrome: a durable feeling that this particular child is always at risk, and an irresistible urge to shelter the kid that can actually hamper his development and harm his relationship with his parents."

I was torn by this article- on the one hand, in my postpartum stay, I had a nurse terrorize me about my baby's weight loss (which was, actually, normal), and that led to months of anxiety about her weight, so I see where this doctor is coming from. On the other hand, she lost me at the end, when she described being less than honest and forthcoming about the danger the baby had been in. As a mother and, well, an adult, I want to know the truth.

The doctor wasn’t dishonest. She employed “thoughtful communication” and chose her words carefully so as not to frighten the parents unnecessarily. Cardiac arrest means the same thing as “heart stopped beating.” One sounds scarier to the patient.

In my experience, while it is well known that a traumatic birth/NICU stay can have lasting effects for the parents, no support is provided to mitigate those issue. I had a traumatic birth with a early/low birth weight preemie. My daughter was in the NICU for 10 weeks, and I heard a lot about the emotional issues that I might face, but no one provided any information about where I might find a therapist/support group/other support services. When my daughter came home, the NICU had set up appointments with the NICU follow up clinic/eye doctor/home visiting nurse for the baby-but nothing for me. In my life now, I am totally capable of finding and scheduling the care I need. But at the time, after a long hospital stay for me, feeling physically wrecked, tiny and sick baby who couldn't eat without turning blue-I really need the extra step of having services set up for me.

Anonymous wrote:I had 2 births that might have been traumatic, if not for my partner, my midwives and my doulas. One was nearly 48 hours that ended with pitocin to help things along.
The second was less than 2 hours from my first contraction and the baby’a heartbeat was slowing from the stress of moving so fast. In both situations, I felt empowered and respected. I felt like my team was working WITH me. I later found out that during my second labor, as I was pushing on my hands and knees and looking at my husband, that a whole team of doctors was right behind me, ready to do an emergency C section. I had no idea and I am glad I didn’t know. All I knew in the moment is that my husband wasn’t scared and my midwife said “you’ve got this. Just a few more pushes” and I trusted them.
I am so thankful for them and the experience I got to have when so many women have similar labors but poor mental heath outcomes due to the way they are treated.

Having experienced the worst possible outcome, I am having a hard time reading here where any trauma came into play. You sound dramatic. You shouldn't share this with people who really did have traumatic births and in many instances, bad outcomes.

I had 2 births that might have been traumatic, if not for my partner, my midwives and my doulas. One was nearly 48 hours that ended with pitocin to help things along.
The second was less than 2 hours from my first contraction and the baby’a heartbeat was slowing from the stress of moving so fast. In both situations, I felt empowered and respected. I felt like my team was working WITH me. I later found out that during my second labor, as I was pushing on my hands and knees and looking at my husband, that a whole team of doctors was right behind me, ready to do an emergency C section. I had no idea and I am glad I didn’t know. All I knew in the moment is that my husband wasn’t scared and my midwife said “you’ve got this. Just a few more pushes” and I trusted them.
I am so thankful for them and the experience I got to have when so many women have similar labors but poor mental heath outcomes due to the way they are treated.

Anonymous wrote:We have got to get past our fetish with "natural" birth. It is extremely damaging to mental health for women.

Read the article before posting.

We have got to get past our fetish with "natural" birth. It is extremely damaging to mental health for women.

I had 2 births that might have been traumatic, if not for my partner, my midwives and my doulas. One was nearly 48 hours that ended with pitocin to help things along.
The second was less than 2 hours from my first contraction and the baby’a heartbeat was slowing from the stress of moving so fast. In both situations, I felt empowered and respected. I felt like my team was working WITH me. I later found out that during my second labor, as I was pushing on my hands and knees and looking at my husband, that a whole team of doctors was right behind me, ready to do an emergency C section. I had no idea and I am glad I didn’t know. All I knew in the moment is that my husband wasn’t scared and my midwife said “you’ve got this. Just a few more pushes” and I trusted them.
I am so thankful for them and the experience I got to have when so many women have similar labors but poor mental heath outcomes due to the way they are treated.

I’m sorry for your experience, 7:46, but C sections have their own risks, and I have several friends whose Cs did not end up as your second birth did. There is a balance to be pursued- Cs are not a simple and risk-free universal solution.

I had a high risk pregnancy, but an awesome MFM who was quite frank about what he thought would happen. He was right, and when what he said would happen happened I felt much more empowered because I knew what to expect. Also, once the baby was out (emergency c-section) everything was fine. So much of this is personality--I find comfort in knowing as much as possible, whereas it makes other people anxious.

I had the same experience, baby stuck, born gray and not breathing, required resuscitation, stayed overnight in the NICU "just in case". I didn't know they were evaluating him for cooling treatment. He's fine now, finishing the last week of school until summer break.

What I have learned, from several NICU stays and other major and minor medical interactions, is that doctors don't tell you anything. It's frustrating. But makes more sense after reading this.

I've seen it happen many times.
This is similar to parents making a big deal out of and not communicating positively about bullying/teasing/other incidents and creating a victim mentality in their children. Victim mentality is where the child feels powerless to control his or her environment and learns to blame everyone else without trying to advocate for themselves effectively.

Parents of children with special needs are at particular risk for these behaviors. I have a child with special needs, who could die in certain situations, and it's simply terrifying to let go as he gets older (and not wiser, at least not as a young teen!). There is no win-win solution in some cases, and you just do the best you can and hope for survival, literally.

I know we prefer not to do Cs if we don't have to. Having gone through both, I don't understand why, at the first sign of a difficult labor, they don't move to a C. I had terrible high blood pressure. My first baby wouldn't come out so they ripped her out of me with forceps. I will have lifelong consequences. I had to urinate standing up in the shower for two weeks.

A week or so later we found a lump on her neck under her ear and had to start seeing doctors for it. (resolved on its own). This set me up for terrible PPD and my kid has horrible anxiety and depression.

Sure, I might have gotten PPD and she might be anxious anyway. But the experience overall was so, so terrible. It began a period of alienation between me and my spouse. Terrible sleep on the part of the baby. It was just a perfect storm of disaster.

Second baby, I insisted on a high risk OB and a planned C. Everything went great. Baby and I were both fine. No PPD.

I will never understand why they didn't offer me a C right away.

Anonymous wrote:Trigger warning: this article contains a story of a difficult birth, and a baby in peril (but with a happy resolution): https://www.newyorker.com/science/elements/the-durable-feeling-that-a-child-is-always-at-risk

"We on the baby team try to hold the peril of these moments inside ourselves, because the way we communicate about risk and injury around birth can have lifelong consequences for parents and children. If we get this communication wrong, studies suggest, the family can be beset by what pediatricians call vulnerable-child syndrome: a durable feeling that this particular child is always at risk, and an irresistible urge to shelter the kid that can actually hamper his development and harm his relationship with his parents."

I was torn by this article- on the one hand, in my postpartum stay, I had a nurse terrorize me about my baby's weight loss (which was, actually, normal), and that led to months of anxiety about her weight, so I see where this doctor is coming from. On the other hand, she lost me at the end, when she described being less than honest and forthcoming about the danger the baby had been in. As a mother and, well, an adult, I want to know the truth.

What snapped me out of it was an unavoidable work trip to another continent. On day 2, toddler DD was rushed to the ER. I did the math and realized that even if I got on the next available flight (in 8 hours from a neighboring country), I was still 14 hours away. I handled what I could from Skype, but at some point I had to detach a bit to be able to function in a foreign country. That detachment helped me to weigh little things with more perspective than I used to. I could freak out over every test result —especially when there was a long history of some of those numbers. I ended up taking my scheduled flight home on Friday. I no longer wanted the nuclear option for everything. And I went away a lot more weekends after that.

Trigger warning: this article contains a story of a difficult birth, and a baby in peril (but with a happy resolution): https://www.newyorker.com/science/elements/the-durable-feeling-that-a-child-is-always-at-risk

"We on the baby team try to hold the peril of these moments inside ourselves, because the way we communicate about risk and injury around birth can have lifelong consequences for parents and children. If we get this communication wrong, studies suggest, the family can be beset by what pediatricians call vulnerable-child syndrome: a durable feeling that this particular child is always at risk, and an irresistible urge to shelter the kid that can actually hamper his development and harm his relationship with his parents."

I was torn by this article- on the one hand, in my postpartum stay, I had a nurse terrorize me about my baby's weight loss (which was, actually, normal), and that led to months of anxiety about her weight, so I see where this doctor is coming from. On the other hand, she lost me at the end, when she described being less than honest and forthcoming about the danger the baby had been in. As a mother and, well, an adult, I want to know the truth.