Lamaze: An International History by Paula A. Michaels (Oxford University Press, USA)

The typical birth narrative that you read online is a tale of harrowing disappointment. The mother had “spent months—if not years—dreaming” about her baby and her pain-medication-free birth. Often, it’s at home, where the mother fantasizes that she will be “surrounded by my family, in an environment where I was free to walk around.” Ideally, the mother would even be able to reach down and pull her baby into the world herself. But, by dint of fate and unhappy circumstance, these moms are forced by medical professionals—sometimes even midwives or doulas—to have C-sections or epidurals. They are “treated disrespectfully or without compassion at that most vulnerable time.”

Read enough of these narratives and you’ll be convinced that the baby-industrial complex is a cold and harsh machine, where epidurals are pushed like marijuana from an aggressive street vendor and individual agency is dismissed.

But the reality is quite different. A new book, Lamaze: An International History by the historian Paula A. Michaels, explains that the vast majority of modern American women are satisfied with their birth experiences. She doesn’t get into specifics on this particular matter, but she notes that according to a 2013 national survey of women’s childbearing experiences, “Mothers generally rated the quality of the United States maternity care system very positively.” 47 percent said it was good, and 36 percent said it was excellent.

Indeed, it’s my experience that even at big, impersonal city hospitals, the language and protocol surrounding maternity care is sensitive and catered to a woman’s desires. I recall the birthing plan that I was encouraged to fill out before I delivered at NYU Hospital. Would I like to move around during labor? Did I want pain medication offered to me immediately, or never? Did I want to delay umbilical cord clamping? (Studies show that this has benefits for the baby.) I remember looking at the crisp white sheet of paper with its cheerful check boxes and being mystified. Before receiving it, my “birth plan” consisted of going into the hospital when I started having contractions and leaving, at some point, with a baby in arms.

“We invite you to participate in the planning of your birth,” the NYU hospital’s website warmly announces. “We ask you to consider your preferences and beliefs that will make your birth experience meaningful to you and your family.” That’s a long way from the birthing gulag conjured up by disappointed new moms, and it’s a result, in part, of the adoption of Lamaze techniques in the U.S. in the 1970s.