From the Bedroom to the Board Room: How I Learned to Nurse in Public

Originally published on July 2, 2010.

This post was originally written for inclusion in the Carnival of Nursing in Public hosted by Dionna and Paige atNursingFreedom.org

***

 

The first time I nursed in public, I was at a La Leche League meeting. What a perfect way to be initiated to nursing around other people.

Breastfeeding is such a personal act at the beginning, an intimate dance between the baby and the mother that begins at the moment of birth. Slowly (sometimes excruciatingly slowly), they find a rhythm, and open up a little to the outside world. Rituals and routines established in the early days – I sit on this area of the couch with these pillows, and look for the feeding cues, and get the latch just right – give way to a looser, more organic relationship. When the universe widens just a bit, other breastfeeding moms are the perfect guests to invite in. When I give breastfeeding mothers advice, I almost always say, “Find a group of breastfeeding moms to socialize with in the first few weeks, and nurse around each other.”

When my baby was just two months old, I went to my first Lamaze conference. I nursed in educational sessions and the exhibit hall and around the hotel during breaks. I shared a hotel room with women who were well past their childbearing years, and yet welcomed having a baby at the slumber party (and no, my baby most definitely was not “sleeping through the night”). Then I had to report briefly to the Board of Directors about a project I was working on, and I breast fed my baby at the board room table. While I presented to the Board members.

I look back on this time now and I realize how fortunate I was. My earliest experiences of opening my baby’s and my universe to others reinforced that nursing is normal, joyful, and important. In a way, it was totally unremarkable to nurse my baby while addressing my supervisor and her Board of Directors. But at the same time, it was something to be celebrated. The people at the table weren’t weirded out that I was breastfeeding. They loved it - reveled in it. We even talked about how it is important to have babies at our conferences. Our work affects them!

My son weaned 4 months ago, ending what had been six and a half years of continuously being either pregnant or nursing. I have nursed in more places than I could begin to count. Wherever I’ve been when my babies happened to become hungry, I’ve nursed.

Only once – ever – did I get a negative remark. I was sitting in a coffee shop nursing my then-18-month-old son, and a 20-something year old guy behind me said to his friend, “You know what I hate? Babies who breastfeed.” I saw his comment for what it was – ignorance mixed with “I’m-an-’ironic’-hipster-trying-to-impress-my-friend”. But I can imagine a new mom hearing that and feeling like an outcast. I was so thankful to have such confidence that his comment didn’t faze me at all. I mostly just felt sad for him.

Thank you to all of those La Leche League moms for instilling in me that early confidence. And thank you to all of the Lamaze leaders with whom I was so incredibly fortunate to share my early mothering. What a gift.

***

 

This post was just one of many being featured as part of the Carnival of Nursing in Public. Please visit the other articles listed below:

Making Breastfeeding the Norm: Creating a Culture of Breastfeeding in a Hyper-Sexualized World

Supporting Breastfeeding Mothers: the New, the Experienced, and the Mothers of More Than One Nursing Child

Creating a Supportive Network: Your Stories and Celebrations of N.I.P.

Breastfeeding: International and Religious Perspectives

Your Legal Right to Nurse in Public, and How to Respond to Anyone Who Questions It

 

A Tale of Two Homebirths

I have two kids, and they were both born at home.  My births were almost carbon copies of each other.  My daughter and son were both born at 39 weeks and 4 days, labor started with water breaking, contractions followed about 30 minutes later, and then labor progressed very quickly.  I had a second degree tear both times in the same spot (ouch), and experienced urinary retention and required a straight catheter both times (double ouch). It’s weird, I know – most women don’t have two kids with such similar births.

There was one major difference, though. At my second birth, my midwives could have been arrested just for being there. They were Certified Professional Midwives (CPMs) with a combined 30+ years of experience but the state I lived in at the time didn’t recognize this national credential.  Neither do 22 other states. Some states actively criminalize home birth midwifery while others have outdated statutes that simply don’t recognize CPMs. But the impact is the same: it marginalizes midwives from the very system that optimizes the safety of home birth: the care providers and facilities that can intervene when complications develop.

I was fortunate that I didn’t need this safety net. But had I encountered problems in my first birth, the procedure was clear: My midwife would have called the obstetrician she worked with, who I had already met during a routine 36 week visit, and she would have accompanied me to the hospital, freely sharing the information in my medical record, giving a verbal report to the doctor, and staying by my side to provide continuous emotional support and comfort. My prenatal record and labs would already have been at the hospital and the doctor would prepare whatever resources and staff were necessary based on the report she got by phone from my midwife – whether that was an epidural for pain relief or a crash c-section.

Had the same complication arisen in my second birth, I honestly don’t know exactly what would have happened. I was lucky that the doctor who backed-up the birth center practice where I worked at the time was willing to do a “special favor” and be my back-up doctor for my own birth. He didn’t do this for other women planning home births. There were a few other doctors in the surrounding areas who would provide “parallel care” to women having home births, which would have meant going to double the number of prenatal visits even though I was healthy, had a toddler at home, and a full-time job. And I’d have to travel a good 30-45 minutes for those prenatal consults, since those doctors weren’t right in my community. I probably would have declined to bother with this since, given my history of rapid labors, I knew it was unlikely that I’d even make it to a hospital 30 or 45 minutes away, and would end up going through an ER closer to home for my care. As for my midwife, she may or may not have been able to transparently share the records from care up to the point of transfer, and she may or may not have been able to stay by my side. It probably would depend on the circumstances of the transfer and whether the receiving hospital was hostile toward or accepting of home birth midwives. After all, she could end up in jail just for bringing me there, even if by doing so she saved my life or my baby’s life.

If ever there was a disincentive to provide safe care, this is it: the fear that by securing access to proper treatments, the midwife faces the possibility of incarceration, loss of livelihood, and financial ruin. And the irony is that in many of the cases where midwives get into trouble, the baby and the mother turned out healthy. In other words, the midwife initiated a transfer appropriately and in a timely manner and the system – as fragmented as it is – actually worked to achieve a good outcome. But all it takes is one person to lodge a complaint, even if the woman herself is happy with her care, and the house of cards comes tumbling down.

Who benefits from this way of doing things?  We’ve already seen that women, babies, and midwives don’t. I don’t really believe that doctors or hospitals benefit, either. Instead of having an orderly system for receiving referrals, staff have to piece together the bits of information in the moment, while caring for a patient who probably doesn’t want to be there and has just been separated from the care provider with whom she has built up nine months worth of trust. The state doesn’t benefit, either. When my son was born safely at home, my husband signed the birth certificate. In other words, the state can’t track the outcomes of practicing home birth midwives, but is called on to investigate when a member of the public makes a complaint.

Many women, I presume, approach the situation the way I did: ignorance is bliss. I didn’t really want to hear the answers to the hard “what if” questions, so I didn’t dwell on them. Besides, I didn’t really have any other options. The only other midwifery practice in my community was the one I worked at, and I preferred to keep my personal and professional lives separate, and I knew enough about the hospital in my community to know that I didn’t want to give birth there unless it was the only safe place to be. I assumed because I was healthy and had already given birth at home, everything would probably turn out fine. I knew my midwives were competent and caring and would do everything possible to keep me out of harm’s way. But I didn’t really know how my care would unfold if I needed urgent help that was outside of my midwives’ scope of practice or skill set. I put trust in a system that couldn’t have been more dysfunctional, and I was lucky that, in the end, I didn’t need to rely on it.

This post is part of a blog carnival to raise awareness about Dr. Agnes Gereb, a Hungarian gynecologist and midwife who was jailed for attending a precipitous birth at her birth center in Budapest, despite apparently providing proper care and exhibiting swift judgment.

From the Bedroom to the Board Room: How I Learned to Nurse in Public

Welcome to the July 2010 Carnival of Nursing in Public

This post was written for inclusion in the Carnival of Nursing in Public hosted by Dionna and Paige at NursingFreedom.org. All week, July 5-9, we will be featuring articles and posts about nursing in public (“NIP”). See the bottom of this post for more information.

***

The first time I nursed in public, I was at a La Leche League meeting. What a perfect way to be initiated to nursing around other people.

Breastfeeding is such a personal act at the beginning, an intimate dance between the baby and the mother that begins at the moment of birth. Slowly (sometimes excruciatingly slowly), they find a rhythm, and open up a little to the outside world. Rituals and routines established in the early days – I sit on this area of the couch with these pillows, and look for the feeding cues, and get the latch just right – give way to a looser, more organic relationship. When the universe widens just a bit, other breastfeeding moms are the perfect guests to invite in. When I give breastfeeding mothers advice, I almost always say, “Find a group of breastfeeding moms to socialize with in the first few weeks, and nurse around each other.”

When my baby was just two months old, I went to my first Lamaze conference. I nursed in educational sessions and the exhibit hall and around the hotel during breaks. I shared a hotel room with women who were well past their childbearing years, and yet welcomed having a baby at the slumber party (and no, my baby most definitely was not “sleeping through the night”). Then I had to report briefly to the Board of Directors about a project I was working on, and I breast fed my baby at the board room table. While I presented to the Board members.

I look back on this time now and I realize how fortunate I was. My earliest experiences of opening my baby’s and my universe to others reinforced that nursing is normal, joyful, and important. In a way, it was totally unremarkable to nurse my baby while addressing my supervisor and her Board of Directors. But at the same time, it was something to be celebrated. The people at the table weren’t weirded out that I was breastfeeding. They loved it – reveled in it. We even talked about how it is important to have babies at our conferences. Our work affects them!

My son weaned 4 months ago, ending what had been six and a half years of continuously being either pregnant or nursing. I have nursed in more places than I could begin to count. Wherever I’ve been when my babies happened to become hungry, I’ve nursed.

Only once – ever – did I get a negative remark. I was sitting in a coffee shop nursing my then-18-month-old son, and a 20-something year old guy behind me said to his friend, “You know what I hate? Babies who breastfeed.” I saw his comment for what it was – ignorance mixed with “I’m-an-’ironic’-hipster-trying-to-impress-my-friend”. But I can imagine a new mom hearing that and feeling like an outcast. I was so thankful to have such confidence that his comment didn’t faze me at all. I mostly just felt sad for him.

Thank you to all of those La Leche League moms for instilling in me that early confidence. And thank you to all of the Lamaze leaders with whom I was so incredibly fortunate to share my early mothering. What a gift.

***

Art by Erika Hastings at http://mudspice.wordpress.com/

Welcome to the Carnival of Nursing in Public

Please join us all week, July 5-9, as we celebrate and support breastfeeding mothers. And visit NursingFreedom.org any time to connect with other breastfeeding supporters, learn more about your legal right to nurse in public, and read (and contribute!) articles about breastfeeding and N.I.P.

Do you support breastfeeding in public? Grab this badge for your blog or website to show your support and encourage others to educate themselves about the benefits of breastfeeding and the rights of breastfeeding mothers and children.

This post is just one of many being featured as part of the Carnival of Nursing in Public. Please visit our other writers each day of the Carnival. Click on the links below to see each day’s posts – new articles will be posted on the following days:

July 5 – Making Breastfeeding the Norm: Creating a Culture of Breastfeeding in a Hyper-Sexualized World

July 6 – Supporting Breastfeeding Mothers: the New, the Experienced, and the Mothers of More Than One Nursing Child

July 7 – Creating a Supportive Network: Your Stories and Celebrations of N.I.P.

July 8 – Breastfeeding: International and Religious Perspectives

July 9 – Your Legal Right to Nurse in Public, and How to Respond to Anyone Who Questions It

Healthy Birth Blog Carnival #6: MotherBaby Edition

We’ve hosted Blog Carnivals for each of the Lamaze Healthy Birth Practices at our sister blog, Science & Sensibility.

This time, we’re bringing our 6th Blog Carnival to Giving Birth with Confidence.  As usual, the bloggers offered up such insightful, thoughtful contributions and I believe yet again that we have one of the best collections on the topic out there on the internet!

Why does keeping moms and babies together after birth matter? Because separating moms and babies is harmful.

Kimmelin Hull at Writing My Way Through Motherhood and Beyond writes:

The research on this issue is crystal clear: babies do better in the first minutes, hours and days, the more time they spend in skin-to-skin contact with their mothers. Their breathing and heart rates remain more stable. Their body temperatures fluctuate less. Ditto for their blood sugar levels. They cry less and they nurse and sleep better, too.”

Danielle at Momotics also reviews the harms of mother-infant separation and suggests that her baby’s 30 hour stay in the NICU for management of blood sugar instability may have been preventable if the hospital had allowed for skin-to-skin contact instead of routine separation. She also points out that skin-to-skin contact exposes newborns to normal bacteria on the mother, which can protect them from getting sick from hospital-acquired bacteria.

All of this just from putting our newborn’s baby against our own? Kristen at Birthing Beautiful Ideas says it simply (and beautifully): Women have superpowers!

Perhaps babies have superpowers, too. The power, that is, to protect their mothers from postpartum depression. Lauren at My Postpartum Voice discusses the amazing health benefits for preterm or low birthweight newborns who experience “Kangaroo Care” — skin-to-skin contact with their mothers in the neonatal intensive care unit. Research also suggests that Kangaroo Care offers protection or relief from postpartum depression. Lauren reports on a study in which no mother developed depression during their Kangaroo Care stay.

Research aside, what about common sense? From the baby’s perspective, the “maternal environment” represents a familiar landscape in which to feel safe and avoid distress (which has well-documented physiological effects.)

Danielle at Informed Parenting describes the moments after birth from the perspective of the baby held skin-to-skin:

Then suddenly he is enveloped in warmth, laying wet and slippery on his mothers chest. He hears it- the beating of his mothers heart. He hears her voice, so clearly for the first time. He knows what he needs and he seeks out that attachment, the physical bond to tie them back together. Little toes flex and dig into his mother soft belly as he wiggles and squirms forward, his little mouth open and questing. The sound of her voice draws him forward. Her arms support him in his journey. In a feat of strength and coordination that is truly amazing he reaches his goal and re-establishes their physical bond. As he suckles her nipple, drops of liquid gold land on his tongue.

Mamapoekie at Authentic Parenting describes a similar scenario, and then contrasts it with the far more common scenario:

You are being pulled away from the one smell and feel you knew to again another entirely different setting. They prick you and it hurts and they rub you down and put stuff in your eyes, it stings even more than the light! You are starting to feel very desperate, very helpless.

From the mother’s perspective, we yearn for closeness with our babies, to take in every detail of their newborn bodies. After all, we’ve worked so hard to grow and give birth to them.

Molly at first the egg writes that while the yearning instinct is deeply primal, yearning is not part of birth when mother and baby are kept together. With gorgeous pictures from her own birth in 1981 and her son’s birth in 2006, Molly shares,

My mother had to yearn for closeness while she fell in love with me. I am so grateful that, twenty-five years later, my newborn and I got to have it.

Kori at Babble.com’s Band On the Diaper Run, who as one-half of the band Mates of State, just hit the road for their summer tour with kids in tow. She shares a powerful testament to the importance of a strong support network to keep her working family together. Her story begins with her yearning for closeness just after her first daughter’s birth:

I shouted across the room, with a strong, primal urge, “Give her to me..I want to hold her..I need to feed her!” Until finally, she was in my arms. I didn’t even recognize my own voice, the words just came out. I needed to have her with me. They really couldn’t ignore me.

And from the family’s perspective, keeping mother and baby together in the hours and days after birth helps them develop a rhythm together and begin to bond and grow as a family. Lauren at Hobo Mama wrote:

Sam, Mikko, and I stayed together from the time we entered our room, three hours prior to the birth, until we all exited as a new family two days later, and it was absolutely the best way I can think of handling it.

boheime at Living Peacefully with Children believes that both birth and bonding are easiest when the mother feels well cared for, and can simply be with her baby to find the right rhythm. She relies on her very willing husband as her primary support for both.

With the birth of each child, he has taken off 2-3 weeks from work in order to cook, clean, and help out however I need him. It’s because of his support that I have been able to focus on getting to know each of our children, establish breastfeeding with them, and not feel as though the entire house has fallen apart.

With so many documented harms from mother-infant separation, not to mention the primal urge for mothers to hold their babies, routine separation of mothers and babies is a mainstay of modern obstetrics, and may give rise to the epidemic of breastfeeding problems.

Sheridan at the Enjoy Birth Blog remarked that her students who have given birth before are among the most surprised that mothers are “allowed” to have their babies with them right after birth. She writes:

It is shocking to me how many moms who are taking my Hypnobabies class for the 3rd or 4th baby and they are amazed that they have the option of keeping the baby on them for an hour or two.

After participating in many hospital births, Carol van der Woude at Aliisa’s Letter also had an awakening about how unnecessary hospital routine are. She describes the first time she saw a home birth:

My wonder at the miracle of birth was renewed. I watched as the baby emerged and the umbilical cord was left intact. The pulsating cord delivered oxygen to the baby as he made the transition to life outside the womb. The baby was placed on the mother’s chest, skin to skin, for warmth. The infant was comforted and stimulated in his mother’s arms.

Lamaze educator Nicole VanWoudenberg who blogs at A Little Bit of This and a Little Bit of That was in fact one of those women who didn’t know about the importance of immediate and close contact after birth until after she had had several babies. She describes her first and last births. After her first birth:

They cleaned her up, weighed and measured her, gave her the vitamin K shot, the eye ointment and whatever else, I was stitched up and approximately 45 minutes later, I got my burrito-baby. Seriously, she was diapered and all wrapped up in towels!! I did not know better, and left her like that while “bonding” with her. Did I have breastfeeding issues? Absolutely. Are the two connected? Absolutely.

For her fourth baby, born at home, she recalls:

I didn’t wait 45 minutes to receive my son. I birthed him and brought him up to my chest, for skin to skin snuggling myself. And there he stayed while we marveled at the wonder of birth, and his appearance! I only let him go while I got out of the pool to birth my placenta. As soon as I was settled on the couch, he was back in my arms, skin to skin – starting to nurse. He breastfed the best, and the longest of all four of my children. Are these two things connected? Absolutely.

Molly at Talk Birth discusses the Birth-Breastfeeding Continuum in her post. She writes:

New mothers, and those who help them, are often left wondering, “Where did breastfeeding go wrong?” All too often the answer is, “during labor and birth.” Interventions during the birthing process are an often overlooked answer to the mystery of how breastfeeding becomes derailed.

Kmom at The Well Rounded Mama reviewed the research surrounding “Baby-Friendly” practices, points to a study that reported only 8% of babies actually experience the six Baby-Friendly practices, and then examines breastfeeding issues in women of size. She writes:

The role of aggressive birth interventions in the lower rate of breastfeeding among obese women typically goes conveniently unexamined in the research. Breastfeeding failure is blamed solely on fatness, when in fact, the high level of interventions in obese pregnancies and births may also play a significant role.

Laura Keegan, author of Breastfeeding with Comfort and Joy writes about the birth stories of women she works with in her practice. “A common theme in all of these stories has been the shock from the denial of contact with their babies or the importance of having that yearned-for close contact at birth,” and asks, “How many breastfeeding problems could be prevented if we facilitated this close contact at birth?”

 

Hobo Mama and her babe.

 

So, why are women and babies separated? Usually for routine care. But it doesn’t have to be that way.

Sheridan at the Enjoy Birth Blog is one of several bloggers who remind us that nurses can do everything they need to do for a healthy baby with the baby in the mother’s arms. She writes, “I understand that nurses have jobs they need to get done, checklists to mark off, but this time is so precious and these routines can wait!”

Fortunately, a new video has just become available to train hospital staff to incorporate skin-to-skin contact after both vaginal and cesarean births. Jeannette Crenshaw reviewed it on Science & Sensibility.

Both sections begin with health professionals teaching pregnant women about immediate skin to skin care prenatally, and on admission to the hospital—which “sets the stage” for immediate skin to skin contact as a normal part of the birth process. After the vaginal birth, the clinician immediately places the baby on mom’s abdomen. After the cesarean birth, the nurse immediately places the baby on mom’s chest, above the sterile field and drapes, as the doctor continues the surgery and the anesthesiologist monitors the mother. The baby’s father is at mom’s side in both segments…Both sections show competent nurses assessing the newborn, providing care, and supporting the mother and baby as the baby moves through the 9 stages of skin to skin.

Also on Science & Sensibility, I discuss a new vital sign for nurses to document after birth, the duration of skin-to-skin contact. I argue that this data may help hospitals comply with new Joint Commission perinatal quality standards.

If hospitals are serious about improving their exclusive breastfeeding rates, they should get serious about measuring the duration of skin-to-skin care. A new study in the Journal of Human Lactation demonstrates a strong dose-response relationship between skin-to-skin care and exclusive breastfeeding at hospital discharge.

The Nurse Blogger at At Your Cervix looks at how weighing babies can be done more humanely, when the time comes (after skin-to-skin contact and breastfeeding). She vows to start weighing newborns in the prone position on soft layers of blankets and states the expected outcome of her new approach:

newborns in the prone position while being weighed, lying on soft blankets, will be more content, with decreased startle reflex, as evidenced by reduced or absent crying.

Let us know how it goes, At Your Cervix!  Or better yet, publish your results!

Dionna at Code Name Mama points out that circumcision is another common reason mother and babies can be separated, and is not medically necessary.

The reason that American medical associations (and the vast majority of medical associations worldwide) do not recommend routine infant circumcision is because it is not medically necessary. And as the Lamaze Healthy Birth Practice Paper #6 details, “experts agree that unless a medical reason exists, healthy mothers and babies shouldn’t be separated after birth or during the early days following birth.” Consequently, unless there is a medical reason to circumcise your newborn son, it is inadvisable to agree to this unnecessary medical procedure.

Cesarean surgery is another major contributor to mother-infant separation after birth. But if this Blog Carnival has achieved anything, it has been to get the blogosphere talking about the fact that skin-to-skin contact is possible immediately after cesarean surgery. A powerful video emerged and was passed around in several of the bloggers’ contributions and on Facebook and Twitter:

Kathy at Woman to Woman Childbirth Education asks, “If you had a C-section, were you able to have your baby put skin-to-skin in the operating room? Did you even know that was a possibility?”

CPN at Cesarean Parent’s Blog got skin-to-skin contact with her baby after her cesarean without even asking for it, and didn’t know what a gift it was until after learning that this is not standard practice. She compares her experience to the typical experience in “reality” TV shows about birth, noting that OR staff do not just separate babies from their mothers for assessments, but for “silly things…, such as having foot prints taken, diapering, and tight swaddling, all before baby gets to meet their mom.”

Birthing Goddess also wrote about the care of mothers and babies after cesarean birth, including the importance of a “Baby Moon” and plenty of support during the longer recovery.

As much as I wish every woman to experience a truly undisturbed and gentle birth, I also know that as of today, close to one out of three women in North America gives birth in the OR. It is up to us to demand things to change for the sake of our children, up to us to bring back a more humane and healthy perspective on birth. Hospital policies can be changed, but the consequences of risky practices for our children can’t. As a community, we can also support our fellow moms who have gone through a difficult birth, help them adjust to motherhood and their new babies, without judging, with compassion and care.

All of these bloggers agreed that, until our system changes, women who want skin-to-skin contact with their babies after cesarean birth need to speak up and ask for it. At Stork Stories…Birth & Breastfeeding, the OB nurse/change agent author writes about how she made immediate skin-to-skin contact happen in the operating room after a mother gave birth by cesarean:

“Give him to me, give him to me! He has to be ON me! You just took him OUT of me, now he HAS TO BE ON ME!” She was literally trying to sit up. Anesthesia was drawing up meds for her (that was his answer). I said “OK here he comes!” So I didn’t ask anyone’s permission this time….. just held that naked baby in one hand, snapped open her gown with the other and helped him move in. I asked for a warm blanket and looked up to see the other nurse and doctor staring at me. I said “Seriously… she’s exactly right, he does belong ON her!”

A system that pits babies’ needs against those of mothers give poor care to both.

Molly at the Citizens for Midwifery Blog muses about the phrase Maternal-Fetal Conflict and discusses the need for terminology that accepts mothers and babies as interdependent:

I think it is fitting to remember that mother and baby dyads are NOT independent of each other. I have written before about the concept of mamatoto–or, motherbaby–the idea that mother and baby are a single psychobiological organism whose needs are in harmony (what’s good for one is good for the other).

The blogger at Thoughtful Birth discusses bonding as an act that involves both the primitive brain and the rational brain, and happens easiest when the birth and postpartum settings facilitate the woman’s integration of the two.

Certainly the ability to override the physical is an amazing skill that allows a woman to overcome a traumatic birth to bond with her baby, or even to bond with an adopted baby. But when we take it for granted that a mother will use her powers of reason to bond with her baby no matter how much we abuse their relationship, we ignore the way the emotional, physical, and spiritual sides of ourselves participate in the birth and bonding process. Pregnancy and labor involve neurochemical and physical changes that make it easier for us to be mothers, and that emotional and hormonal dance does not end with labor.

Michelle at The Parenting Vortex suggests that what happens in the moments right after birth remains a mystery to many pregnant women, but these moments represent a major life transformation for both the woman and the baby, who now become separate but interdependent beings. She writes:

Reforming birth practices in countries where birth has become a highly medicalized event means recognizing birth as a multi-dimensional, life changing event for all members of the family. When birth is recognized and honoured as an emotional, spiritual, transformational AND biological process, then the importance of keeping a new baby and mother together will become more apparent.