strip mining and epidurals

i witnessed a beautiful vag birth tonight. a baby girl oozed silently into the world, thick with vernix and bathed in amniotic fluid. she was pink in seconds and flew right to her mama's breast, unhindered by gravity or any other worldly tethers.

it was an epidural birth, but went so smoothly. it made me happy. the last epidural birth i witnessed scarred me, but the scars were not as permanent as those of the wounded woman, tears hot on her face and chest. exhausted and then defeated the moment she heard the word "cesarean."

i don't think epidurals are smart, but i don't blame women for getting them.

in a world where no one trusts, loves, or respects our bodies, how can we?

in a culture where women are not "able-bodied," where we're "hysterical" and under-valued, how can we believe in ourselves through the pain, the wires, the tubes, and the men's voices telling us about an "easy" way out?

most women think that birth should be as easy as flipping on a light switch. and they don't think about the blood-stained scalpel beyond their decision for an epidural any more than they think about the coal-stained lungs of the men behind their electricity; the scar that may remain on their bellies forever is as forgotten as the strip mined, bleeding earth.

it's where the education comes in, though, i think.

when we are educated, we become empowered.
when we learn to name things, we gain our own strength and power.

i got this link for "cesarean art" from at your cervix's blog.

i love it. but beware. it's real.