Dr. Amy, Birth Goddess™

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I’ve been resisting for years, but I must acknowledge that the conclusion is inescapable. I know that I have written repeatedly that it doesn’t matter how you give birth, but spending so much time reading and arguing with birth activists, I feel myself coming around to their way of thinking.

It’s undeniable; I am a Birth Goddess™ and all the birth activists are jealous of me.

I’ve rocked 4 vaginal births, count ’em, one, two, three, four. That’s more than most birth activists can hope for or imagine. Four perfect, joyful, empowering births where I was so closely bonded to my babies prenatally that I was able to ensure that they were all head down, none occiput posterior, none asynclitic, all who simply slipped out without any assistance.

No scalpel, forceps or vacuum were needed, not like those losers who are trying for their VBA4C, still hoping that after doing it wrong so many times, they’ll finally get it right. Sure, they blame the doctor, the nurses, the hospital, just about anyone you can think of except themselves. My obstetrician, nurses and hospital couldn’t have cared less whether I had vaginal births or not, yet I had them anyway. Obviously it is because I am a Birth Goddess™ and the women who wind up with C-sections don’t have what it takes.

No birth affirmations for me. Birth affirmations are for losers. Real women communicate directly with their babies without the need for words.

My four pregnancies were not variations of normal, they were the textbook definition of normal. No pre-eclampsia, no gestational diabetes, no premature rupture of membranes, no Group B strep, no abruptions or cord accidents. My babies weren’t small babies, either. No, my goddess-like pelvis was able to accommodate big babies, bigger than many babies whose mothers had C-sections.

I can’t remember what I ate and I don’t recall exercising at all, but the outcomes make it clear that I ate exactly what was needed and exercised the perfect amount. I took control of my births and they were awesome!

I didn’t skip any test for fear that I wouldn’t pass them, either. I’m a Birth Goddess™ and I passed every test with flying colors.

So why do birth activists argue with me when I explain obstetrics? I did everything they claim is necessary to show that I am a superior mother. Lots of women say they want what’s best for their babies, but didn’t follow through. Unlike them, I actually made it happen.

Why would you get your childbirth information from bloggers who are VBAC activists, who couldn’t manage to give birth swiftly and easily, long before an obstetrician could recommend a C-section that, according to them, wasn’t even necessary in the first place? Why would you get your childbirth information from someone who couldn’t manage to convince her baby to stay head down, or occiput anterior, or couldn’t manage to fit him or her through her pelvis? Why would you get your childbirth information from women who ignored their gestational diabetes, pre-eclampsia or group B strep colonization? Shouldn’t you be getting it from someone who successfully avoided all those things?

Let’s face it, all those birth activists who whine about me, rail about me, and tell others not to listen to me are simply jealous of my achievements. I’ve done what most of them have never managed to do. Sure, they might eventually get it right, and have normal test results, babies in the optimal position, and spontaneous vaginal births, but that won’t make up for the fact that they got it wrong in the first place, no matter how many times they subsequently get it right.

If birth activists judge women by whether and how a baby transited their vagina, then they should view me as the acme. I’m the Birth Goddess™ that they aspire to be. Is it any wonder then that they resent me because I couldn’t have cared less how my babies were born and had perfect births while they cared so much and screwed the whole thing up?

I’m a Birth Goddess™, and from here on out, I expect to be worshiped for my innate wisdom as demonstrated by my perfect births. I rocked birth and they didn’t. I win!


This piece, though factually correct, is obviously satire.