Empowering Children with Birth

On the eve of my younger sister’s due date with her second baby she sent me a voice message asking how I talked about birth with my son prior to the birth of his sister.  She wanted support with how to talk about her imminent birth with her 5-year-old daughter.

One of the many things our culture does not model for us is an empowering narrative around giving birth.  As young children, most of us did not have empowered conversations about birth, much less witness one.  We have the opportunity to make a different choice.  We can include our children in the magical journey of pregnancy and birth, rather than shield them from this transformative rite of passage. 

Whether you have a son or a daughter, sharing with them the absolute miracle of a woman’s body, to grow a baby and become a portal for the soul to embody, is something to be celebrated.  For those of you having a birth where your child may not be able to be present (or who simply don’t want them in the room), your birth story can be shared afterwards.  If you had a challenging birth and you need time to process and integrate your own emotions before you are able to share, this is perfect too.  Whatever your birth story may be, there is always a way to include your older children from a place of inclusivity and empowerment.     

I began the story of birth and pregnancy with my son from the time he was an infant.  I printed out pictures of his birth and my pregnancy with him, and made an album.  I used this album as a way to tell stories about his birth, as well as to talk about birth and pregnancy in general.  When he was a baby, my approach was simple with a spiritual slant.  As he became a toddler, I introduced him to Alex Grey’s paintings depicting pregnancy and breastfeeding, as well as his anatomical paintings of the different body systems.  When he was around 5, we talked about the male contribution of the seed.  We were gardening a lot at the time so it was easy to use this as a backdrop for the conversation.  I always talked very openly about birth and our bodies with him, modifying the stories as he grew to be relatable and always from a reverent place.  

When I became pregnant with my daughter, my son was 8.  I made the decision early on that I wanted my son to be present for my daughter’s birth.  I wanted him to experience the awe of birth firsthand, with the hope that it would forever imprint him with respect of a women’s body.  From this impression, I envisioned him moving forward in his life as a man who honors the immense power, grace, and strength of birth and women.  Although the demoralizing perspective of our culture is influential, we as parents are equally, if not more, impactful. 

I knew that sharing about the birth beforehand was a huge key to our success.  For my son to remain open to witnessing the birth, I was going to have to prepare him for the intensity so that he would not be afraid for me.  We talked many times during my pregnancy about the birth.  When I say talk, I mean a couple of sentences casually spoken when we were in a relaxed, connected state with one another.  I told him the types of noises I may make and why.  I shared that I was not hurt, no matter how much it seemed like I was.  I told him there may be a lot of blood.  My intention was to normalize the intensity of giving birth for him as much as possible before the actual experience. 

There are so many unexpected situations that arise during labor and birth, so we made sure before hand to control the factors that were controllable.  We asked a friend to come be responsible for my son for the whole time so that neither my husband nor myself had to think about his needs at all.  In addition to getting him food and things like that, she was tuning into him emotionally.  She was monitoring if he was feeling scared or overwhelmed and took him out of the room to go play at various stages throughout my labor to allow his nervous system to integrate.  

My labor was fast and intense.  Our friend took him out of the house for an hour to give him a break from the long throes of labor.  She told us to text her once I transitioned and she would bring him immediately back.  About an hour after he returned, my 8-year-old son watched his baby sister emerge into a warm pool in our living room.  He took pictures, and mostly sat at a distance and observed.  When she came out, he was a little tentative to come and say hello, but he came over and had a quick peek.  

For boys, teaching them the miracle of birth provides a solid foundation of respect and awe for a woman’s body.  It sets the stage for healthy sexual and emotional relationships that honor women and their bodies.  Also, it can activate the chivalrous nature of a boy that lay dormant, hardwired into their DNA.  

For girls, it lays a deep foundation of self-respect and love for their bodies.  They are exposed to so many images and words that teach them not to value their bodies as the perfect, powerful vessels they are.  Sharing with them both the journey of pregnancy, and the life-changing rite of passage of birth, sets the stage for girls to take pride in their bodies.  We as mothers have the choice to consciously include our daughters in the gorgeous tapestry of women, the creators of (human) life, weaving through time.  It is a profound gift we have to offer. 

How would your life have been different if you were introduced to your body from this perspective? 

How would you have viewed your sexuality differently upon entering puberty? 

How would you have viewed pregnant women’s bodies as you passed them on the streets?    

I have checked in with my son about his experience various times during these past couple of years to hear his perspective.  In some ways I can imagine watching your mom give birth as a young boy could be overwhelming, and I think in some ways it was.  When I ask him he says, “It was weird ;).”  Any overwhelm that he may have experienced I trust was worth it.  I believe sharing the experience of birth with our sons and daughters is a huge opportunity to heal the pervasive, disempowered stories that men and women have regarding their bodies, sexuality, and sexism.  It is a chance to create a new narrative which honors and respects women and their bodies.  There is an invitation for sex to be sacred not just animal.  We get to choose how we inform our children.  We are their first, and I believe most impactful teachers on respect and honoring their bodies and themselves.  

Together we can create a new, empowered narrative of birth for our children.  We can birth a generation of boys and girls that are proud of their bodies and respectful in their sexual relationships.  Our children can be fully embodied and empowered in their sexuality.  We can break the cycle of shame, disgust, and silence that has burdened us for generations.  Will you share your birth stories with your children?   The magical moments, the challenging moments, the ways you succeeded, and the ways you wish it were different…  It is a gift to them, their future partners, and to the world.       

Dare to Desire -

Kristen