I never really gave much thought to how I’d have a baby. Before getting pregnant, it was one of those far-off concepts — like people going to the moon or filing my taxes. Once I was actually pregnant, I spent more time stressing over stretch marks and kick counts than worrying about how said baby would make its grand entrance.
Then, around week 34, reality hit me like Braxton hicks: this kid had to come out somehow, and from everything I’d heard, it was going to hurt like a bitch.
So, naturally, I asked every mom I knew for their insight. I got the usual tips — bring a stroller fan to the hospital, don’t tell your MIL when your water breaks — but what stood out the most? Everyone who had a “natural birth” had this… unmistakable air of superiority, like they’d unlocked some elite level of motherhood the rest of us couldn’t touch. It was like pushing a baby out without so much as a Tylenol transformed people I used to take toxic-tasting shots with into untouchable warriors. Every convo circled back to their excruciating, empowering experience and a pressing invitation for me to join the sisterhood by doing the same. It was like going through sorority recruitment but with more vagina talk.
Despite being easily influenced and prone to peer pressure, even I thought these bitches were batshit. In my opinion, anyone opting for a “natural birth” (more on this term later) is kinda unhinged.
I get it — every mom’s entitled to her own birth preferences. Big fan of that! But the ones who skip meds (which, to me, is the equivalent of having a baby in a barn) seem to think they’re on a higher plane. I’m not here to judge (well, maybe a little), but for most, the “natural” route isn’t about primal roots or honoring ancestors. It’s about those sweet, sweet bragging rights. I said what I said.
Why Moms Have “Natural” Births
Let’s be real: few moms admit they went natural just so they could say they went natural. And that’s usually the term they use: natural. But, hi, however you experience birth *is* natural. What they typically mean is they had an unmedicated birth (which is also usually inaccurate because IVs, antibiotics, and interventions are still often used). But whatever! They opt for the term natural and throw out reasons like “faster recovery” or “quicker labor.” I mean, who doesn’t love the idea? Skip the meds, and you’ll supposedly be leak-free and doing lunges by noon!
Then there’s the claim that epidurals make the baby come out “drugged up” (they don’t), or leave the mom completely out of it (trust me, not true). And, of course, the pièce de résistance: that feeling every ounce of pain will magically deepen your bond with your baby. Because, naturally, nothing says “I love you” like being put through literal torture.
But let’s call it what it is. All these supposed perks sound nice in theory, but are they really why people are skipping the epidural? Kindly cutting the shit, we all know what’s actually going on here; it’s not about recovery times or bonding. It’s about the one thing everyone really craves: the ultimate self-imposed badge of honor.
The Real Reason to Skip the Meds
The real reason anyone chooses to go unmedicated isn’t about some magical connection or breezing through recovery. It’s about locking down those “I survived” credentials. Maybe it’s a family tradition. Maybe your frenemy did it, and if you don’t, you’ll have to deal with her annoying stories for the rest of your life. Whatever prompted the decision, the result is the same: You didn’t just bring a baby into the world — you endured every contraction, every ounce of pain, and now you have a story that turns every playdate into a TED Talk.
Nothing says “I think I’m stronger than you,” like casually dropping “Oh, I went natural” into conversation. It’s not enough to simply have a baby; it’s about securing that elite status, where unmedicated birth becomes more than a choice — it’s a personality trait. Got a headache? Let me tell you about labor. Stub your toe? Try unmedicated childbirth. It’s a pissing contest for moms that can be deployed anytime, anywhere, with a look that says, You just wouldn’t understand.
And sure, people do weird shit all the time. Folks climb mountains and swallow swords and host holiday dinners for their entire extended families. And while there’s a feeling of accomplishment, the truth is, they’re doing it so they can tell other people they did it. Ever met anyone who climbed a mountain and didn’t talk about it? Idk because mountain climbers aren’t my demo. But the same theory applies here: If a mom had an unmedicated birth but she doesn’t tell anyone, did it even happen?
In Defense of Pain-Free Birth
Because it won’t hurt as much. There. Done.
Honestly, though, the only people who care whether or not you had an unmedicated birth is you. I promise, no mom who got an epidural is looking at the mom who went unmedicated and thinking: “Wow, you are so much braver, stronger, and more dedicated than I am.” Instead, it’s probably more along the lines of: “Who TF brainwashed you, and now I kinda suspect you don’t vaccinate.”
You don’t get a cavity filled without getting some pain meds. Hell, you wouldn’t climb that mountain without intervention or host the family holiday without a shitton of alcohol. So why go through the most painful experience of your life without something to take the edge off?
I know, I know. The “reasons” listed above: faster labor, easier recovery, blah blah blah. The thing is, it’s all relative. For every midwife and doula saying foregoing an epidural will make the process go smoother, there’s an MD quoting the opposite. The truth is that everybody’s birthing and recovery experience is different, and a good team should make that clear.
Some folks find they’re able to relax and help their body along by getting an epidural to ease the pain. Others might feel that unless they’re suffering like some 1700s maiden without modern medicine, things will stall. It’s not a one-size-fits-all situation, and chances are you don’t actually know how your body is going to react until you’re in the moment. If you’re privileged enough to have a healthy, low-risk pregnancy with a body that responds and a baby that cooperates — cool! But there’s a lot of luck that goes into all of that, and for anyone who doesn’t have that option, it doesn’t mean their birth experience is any less valid. Instead, it’s simply a matter of advocating for yourself and working with your team as labor progresses, no matter how the delivery unfolds.
While many ~unmedicated~ moms might feel like they’re conquering the final level of martyrdom with their breathing techniques and water births, the only ones who give a fuck are them. The rest of us? We’re wondering what Kool-Aid they drank and talking shit behind their backs. Sorry, moms, but it’s giving MLM vibes.
The only way to have an unmedicated birth and not make everyone you know roll their eyes in your presence is to be upfront about it. Own your shit. Say you did it because it seemed hard and would give you bragging rights. Only then will I respect your decision. But before you tell me your birth story again, let me just grab the anesthesiologist for an epidural; I just need a lil something to take the edge off, ya know?
