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CE's avatar

In the last 2 years I have suffered through: ovarian cysts, endometriosis surgery, fertility treatments, an HG pregnancy, preeclampsia, an emergency c-section, c-section incision dehiscence and evisceration, and now caring for my newborn has been complicated by her own medical issues. Feeling like my body is out of sync with my intellect and desires is something I’m very familiar with. I also wrestle with knowing where my limits are and how to work with what I have to do what I strictly need to do in terms of duty/obligation and the things I want to do to make me feel like myself (creative outlets or reading or time with friends). I don’t have any answers for me or for anyone else, but at some point figuring out that it’s unreasonable to be perpetually operating at peak performance was spiritually helpful because it made it clear to me that spending the times when I am sick fretting about all the things I think I should be doing is a temptation to resent suffering that is inevitable and unavoidable anyway (and consequently to be MORE miserable). And I think about the Agony in the Garden and Jesus’ human frailty and desire to escape suffering a lot.

Leah Libresco Sargeant's avatar

In our house, we talk a lot about "Ok, let's be proactive about *which* balls we're going to drop."

Mary Ellen's avatar

I've really been mulling on this one as I've contemplated breast cancer treatment. I wrote a long piece about it here: https://slowprocessing.substack.com/p/what-is-freedom-for

I've gone through a couple of prophylactic drugs and they haven't gone well. I headed to the oncologist last week with these ponderings:

If I were my mother, diagnosed with leukemia at age 50, or Ben Sasse, given the awful news of stage 4 cancer, would I choose a different course? Probably. If the murky horizon offered only death or painful, constantly medicated life, perhaps I’d take the pain for some number of months to say goodbye and get my affairs in order. Honestly, I don’t know.

I’m with Catholicism on assisted suicide, but what of choosing less suffering and less longevity, not actively choosing death, but intentionally choosing a shorter, un-medicated life? I’ve consulted around to my personal circle of religious ethicists and it seems I’m under no obligation to endure daily suffering for possible better cancer outcomes but, of course, I try not to deal in rights and obligations, but rather gifts and sacrifices.

What I know clearly is that my life is not my own. By virtue of many choices my body and the implications of my health are shared with my husband Ben and the kids and my co-worker Meridith, to a lesser degree with the families we support at Lydia’s House, and at a mystical level with Christ and the Church. I no longer have such a thing as bodily autonomy, despite what the oncologist said. I’ve talked to Ben and Meridith. They agreed with me not to have the full mastectomy, not to continue tamoxifen or exemestene. But the worry is present; it’s not light when I bring up these questions.

Christine's avatar

Oh gosh, the epidural debate. I still get knots in my stomach thinking about how I felt in labor with my fourth (and youngest) baby, when I went so far as hiring a doula so I could feel more empowered and at ease during the whole process, and *hopefully* avoid an epidural! I've experienced birth with and without it, and that time I decided I really wanted to try hard to work WITH my body and feel everything and have all the freedom of movement, etc. In reality, I felt such anxiety over what was going to happen during that labor that I panicked at every contraction. When I finally "caved" and got an epidural I felt so guilty. But WHY??! I feel so dumb that I had such a control complex over this! It was almost a bigger mental sacrifice to just accept pain relief. I'm glad I did! I don't think it's wrong to alleviate physical pain with medication, so why did I make such a fuss over it? I do think that in my circles there's a tendency (sometimes unconscious) to equate labor and delivery, and general sacrifices of parenting, with the Passion of Christ, and that's not wrong exactly, but I do think it's wrong to apply that mindset to every mom, in every situation- and almost no one will actually come out and say "you can't have pain relief because Jesus didn't have pain relief on the cross! Offer it up!" I don't disagree that suffering is redemptive, but I'm learning that different people are called to offer things up in different ways. Letting go of my need for control in that particular situation (and allowing the nurses and anesthesiologist to do an act of mercy! Lol) was my cross that time around. Another time, it might be surrendering physical pain. But I hate that I still beat myself up unfairly over this.

Meredith McCann's avatar

I have never heard a man rhapsodizing about getting a medical procedure without pain relief. 😅

AMG's avatar
6hEdited

I wonder how much of this is individual pain experiences. I’ve run a marathon and it was nothing like giving birth for me! If it had been, I would gladly have stuck to my goal of forgoing an epidural for my two births. Running a marathon required mental and physical endurance and a certain tolerance of pain but it was never excruciating pain. And when I ran a marathon I had a lot of control over my body still…I could slow down if I was in pain (and I did), I could go to the bathroom if needed and drink. I knew how far I had left to go (unlike birth). lol I ran the St Jude’s marathon and there were bands playing and people cheering along the way! But even with all that support, I could not have run the marathon if I had searing pain that I could not walk or move through and uncontrolled vomiting. For me marathon running was wayyy easier than giving birth! My babies also have had very big heads and my progress in labor before getting epidurals was extremely slow and extremely painful.

Leah Libresco Sargeant's avatar

As a non-epidural person (who doesn't think that needs to be universal!) I think the most basic pitch against them is that you wouldn't usually take pain meds while, e.g. running a 10k, and that (if things are going ok) you may prefer to be fully alive to the hard thing you are doing well.

(Yes, I'm a Bradley method person)

Meredith McCann's avatar

I went no epidural with my first birth, and then I got epidurals for my next two births. My main impression of my “natural” birth was “wow, I can’t believe any of my ancestors decided to do that more than once.”

Leah Libresco Sargeant's avatar

And my reaction to doing a no-epidural labor was "Ok, now I understand why people run marathons."

(but I still wouldn't do *that* unless they gave you a baby at the end, not just a medal and a reflective blanket)

Christine's avatar

The crazy thing is, my reaction was similar! I had a non-epidural labor for my second and I don't know what was different about it but I was way more chill about it! Was it truly easier? Maybe baby's position or size made it that way? Or maybe my mindset was healthier? And yet there I was losing my mind with baby #4. I probably needed a therapist more than a doula

Patrick Kocher's avatar

This comment is laugh-out-loud hilarious!

Anamaria's avatar

Birth is not “a medical procedure “ 🤷‍♀️

Meredith McCann's avatar

Sigh. You know full well what I mean. Birth is a medically relevant event. Over the last hundred years, more Americans have died from childbirth than from military combat. Even though maternal mortality has improved globally, about 800 women die every single day around the world from birth-related causes.

https://www.womanstats.org/combatmaternaldeaths.html

Kate of Kate Hall's avatar

Birth is not a medical procedure any more than breathing, sleeping, walking, or eating are medical procedures.

Christine's avatar

You say that but it's clear that women have largely needed some form of assistance doing this natural activity for all of human history. A classic example of a vulnerability that needs to be shared- WAY more so than eating, sleeping or walking! (Oh and lucky you if you've found it so easy! Haha)

Kate of Kate Hall's avatar

Birth is not a *vulnerability.* it is a normal and normative part of the female life course.

Certainly we are not evolved to birth alone. Are we actually meant to eat alone? Labor in a field alone? Gather berries alone? Sew and weave alone? The answer is and has always been no.

I certainly don't think birth is easy, but neither was my ancestors' subsistence farming in Puerto Rico or the work of my great grandparents raising 10 kids. This is not a *moral* judgment on epidurals (I had one for my vbac) simply a note that historically, pathologizing the female body leads nowhere good and we don't need to construct our bodies as weak simply because we are not men. Women live longer and much healthier lives than men, are less likely to have developmental conditions and are more resilient to disease. Nothing weak about us :)

Christine's avatar

I think you should check which blog you're reading! Vulnerability isn't bad and saying it's bad and weakness is to be avoided is exactly what leads to pathologizing.

Kate of Kate Hall's avatar

No one said vulnerability is bad??? Motherhood for example does come with certain social vulnerabilities depending on the culture in question. As does manhood- male fetuses and babies are more vulnerable and weaker. Women are demonstrably not more vulnerable than men as a rule. That's just established biological fact. That's all.

Anamaria's avatar

Just came here to say the same didn’t realize it was already said!

I think epidurals probably have their place but the statement is absurd.

Mikayla's avatar

I hate this aphorism, it’s such a bad faith dismissive thing to say. Call me back when men routinely go through “medical procedures” that can last for days and can be helped along by retaining their full mobility through those hours or days. An epidural takes away so much more than just the pain.

There are so many reasons to enjoy the benefits of birth without an epidural that have nothing to do with “rhapsodizing” about going “without pain relief.” And I say this as someone who has only ever given birth with an epidural! I can be grateful for my own epidural and also have enough empathy to understand why someone might prioritize avoiding one!

Daisy's avatar

Oh this is EXACTLY what happened to me with my third! I’d had a really stressful pregnancy dealing with a lot of anxiety and life things going wrong, and the week before my oldest had to go to the hospital so I was already exhausted. It took a lot of humility to acknowledge to myself that I needed it, and confidence to ask for it despite hiring a doula (though she was still incredibly helpful). I needed to surrender my desire for control and anxiety over it. So I am actually glad that I did get the epidural! though it feels strange to admit it especially amid all my crunchy friends.

Leah Libresco Sargeant's avatar

I’m so glad you gave yourself the support you needed!

Elizabeth Burtman's avatar

I feel like people often talk past each other on this b/c different labors are different!! For me, I’ve had three medically uncomplicated deliveries with single digit hours in active labor/“the hard part”, so unmedicated birth has made sense for me. But if someone has a really long labor, or a complication making things much more difficult, then their pro/con list is going to look a lot different from mine.

Leah Libresco Sargeant's avatar

Yes! I went in prepared to be surprised

Kara McKinney OANN's avatar

You’re still joining your physical suffering to Christ’s Passion with or without an epidural 💕

Don’t beat yourself up over it! 😌

Paul Burt's avatar

Friday essay: why has philosophy ignored motherhood? https://share.google/QXM0ssaiy0JgzTdCm

Paul Burt's avatar

Some philosophers are thinking more widely about maternity

Fr. Brian John Zuelke, O.P.'s avatar

The question I will always have about medical intervention is whether it is (1) needed absolutely, or (2) needed because of other failures of medicine, economics, politics, etc. The application of technology doesn't take place in a vacuum: its necessity is conditioned by circumstances, perceptions, cultural attitudes, psychology, etc. Said again: Is there really a natural problem, or a problem artificially created that technology is then supposed to liberate us from?

Example: Is the way labor and delivery is treated in the US appropriate? So, for instance, is it proper to treat it as an issue of medicine, or is it something else? Is it proper to surround it with so much anxiety, or does this anxiety (imposed on the mother!) affect the success of labor and delivery?

My main concern is that the medicalization of labor and delivery (and everything else in society) is actually the primary problem. If that were solved, would that eliminate the various questions about "should I?" with regard to the application of technology to labor and delivery?

Leah Libresco Sargeant's avatar

There are definitely always going to be labors that need the stepped up level of help, and it's hard to know which are which. Both my first and second deliveries would have needed emergency transfers to a hospital if I'd started at home or in a birthing center.

I think one of the best (very rare) approaches is a birthing center floor colocated within a hospital, so you can start in a minimally medicalized environment, but you're only a gurney ride and an elevator from emergency interventions and a NICU.

Paul Burt's avatar

As a male, it seems to me that women sometimes seem to strive too hard to manage too many conflicting responsibilities alone. Recognising one’s limitations (in sickness or in health) is a way of being truthful and kind to oneself. If one doesn’t treat itself kindly it’s hard to address the needs of others (who may be dependent on you).

PharmHand's avatar

“A full anthropology needs a way to articulate what a good life looks like during periods of illness and aging, not just seasons of high agency. “

Here is poem that gives a useful perspective that has been at the center of my ‘good life’…

Psalm 23

A psalm of David.

The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

He makes me lie down in green pastures,

he leads me beside quiet waters,

he refreshes my soul.

He guides me along the right paths

for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk

through the darkest valley,

I will fear no evil,

for you are with me;

your rod and your staff,

they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me

in the presence of my enemies.

You anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

Surely your goodness and love will follow me

all the days of my life,

and I will dwell in the house of the LORD

forever.