The 101st Push
As a birth doula, most of my reading consists of texts about reproductive justice, memoirs written by midwives, and of course the more than occasional romance novel (this has nothing to do with me being a doula, I just like them). This week, though, I decided to read a self-help book, which is extremely out of character for me. I am not saying they suck, but I find the advice usually boils down to “Have you tried working harder? Asking for what you want? Maybe stop being lazy?”
Somehow the one I listened to on audiobook this week I thoroughly enjoyed, and it impacted me in ways I didn’t expect. I had to drive a long distance and someone recommended Atomic Habits by James Clear to keep me entertained. Since it was available immediately on Libby (unlike every other book on my TBR) I decided to give it a shot. Atomic Habits was succinct, actually applicable, and didn’t make me want to rip my hair out. Well done, Clear.
More than giving me practical ways to improve my own life, though, it helped me realize something I hadn’t noticed before: I see birth everywhere.
Early on in the book, Clear mentions Jacob Riis' metaphor of the stonecutter and explains how the San Antonio Spurs have a Riis quote hanging in their locker room. The quote says, “When nothing seems to help, I go and look at a stonecutter hammering away at his rock, perhaps a hundred times without as much as a crack showing in it. Yet at the hundred and first blow it will split in two, and I know it was not that last blow that did it—but all that had gone before.”
Immediately this reminded me of the work that goes into the second stage of labor. The second stage of labor begins when the cervix reaches full dilation at 10 centimeters and continues throughout the pushing stage until the baby is born. Some people choose to watch this process in a mirror, and most hospitals have this option available. While it is often extremely empowering, it can also be discouraging to see the baby’s head emerge with a push, only for the head to slip back into the vagina between contractions.
When this happens for my clients, I can see their brows furrow in the frustration and the tension that takes over their body as they are faced with this image. I understand why this can make birth feel more daunting since it can seem like no progress is being made, but this perception is misleading. Like the work of the stonecutter, every push is building toward something, even when they can’t see the results yet.
What is actually happening here is both purposeful and necessary. As the baby’s head moves down, it gently massages and stretches the surrounding tissues to prepare them for birth. The perineum, the space between the vagina and anus, can stretch up to 200% during birth. It makes sense, then, that this process can take time, especially if it’s their first birth.
The cycle of descending and ascending can feel pointless, but I wish more people knew that it helps reduce the likelihood of an instrumental delivery and tearing. There is only one push that actually delivers the baby, just like only one strike from the stone cutter will cause the rock to split in two. I just wish everyone understood that all the effort leading up to it mattered.
After noticing how my thought process went to birth in this instance, I started noticing other places where the same phenomenon occurred. When I was sore after my workout, my immediate thought was not “I wish stairs were never invented and I never want to see another one ever again.” Instead, it was “this pain has purpose” (an affirmation I suggest to my clients to help ground them during labor). When I was struggling to meet a deadline, I had a very distinct thought of “I can’t do this anymore.” Immediately, though, I countered it with “This is like transition, I am probably almost there,” and sure enough after 15 minutes of concentrated effort I was done.
When I started this career, I expected my views on birth to change. I knew any preconceived notions I had about pregnancy, labor, delivery, and postpartum would be repeatedly challenged and I welcomed that shift. I didn’t realize though that this career would shift my view on the world around me. Perhaps that was naive of me, but I am almost glad I wasn’t prepared for it. This week, realizing how much my thinking has shifted has been a beautiful experience. I love that I see life through a lens of creation, strength, love, and connection. My life is oriented around the most powerful process in existence, and I can’t imagine a better center.
So maybe reading this book was the 101st strike on the stone for me. With every birth I’ve attended and family I’ve supported, I have unknowingly been hammering away at the cynicism I used to view the world with. It makes me wonder how many things in our lives feel like they aren’t working when we’re actually just not at the final push yet. Maybe it’s your health journey, a new parenting technique, or a business you are trying to start. Whether you prefer the stone cutter metaphor or the birth parallel, I hope you remember you are still making progress, even when you can’t see the results yet. It is a lovely thing to be the kind of person who sees beauty and creation everywhere, and if you’ve ever felt this way too, I think you’ll like it here.
