We debate whether it’s right to ban childbirth photos as feminist campaign challenges social media companies
WRITER Samantha Brick, 47, says 'we've been giving birth for centuries without posting photos' in debate over whether we should ban childbirth photos on Instagram.
Sam Carlisle, 50, however backs honesty and openness for women during pregnancy. But who do you agree with?
No: Samantha Brick, 47
In the age of #MeToo and #TimesUp, there are far more important issues than the latest feminist campaign: #StopCensoringBirth. This fad is fighting for the right to post images on social media of pubic hair, blood, buttocks and a child’s head exiting a vagina.
However, my gut reaction is: enough already! Let’s be clear, there are lots of things our bodies and genitals do (hello, loo!) and we don’t need to see those functions all over Facebook.
I don’t want to witness someone having their wisdom tooth pulled out. I also don’t want to watch – and feel obliged to ‘like’ – a picture of my bestie’s baby entering the world.
Most of us sane, rational beings appreciate that social media sites are fundamentally about showing off. Posting your birth experience online would be no different. You’d select the picture, edit the image and inevitably apply filters to ensure you and your birth experience are as like-friendly as possible.
Which means that at the end of the day, you’re not really showing an authentic version at all, so why bother? As far as I’m concerned, it’s beyond narcissistic to assume people will even be interested in the first place.
One hospital in Maryland, US, has even banned the use of recording devices, explaining that the health and safety of mother and child must be paramount.
I may not have ever given birth, but as an ex-TV producer, I’ve overseen a student midwives series and witnessed more unedited births – messy, bloody, painful, usually involving faeces – than most women. Things go wrong very quickly.
What is heaven for one mum is hell for another. No two births are the same. And what if your experience doesn’t measure up to someone else’s?
I have one friend whose plan to record her home water birth ended in a rush to hospital and a traumatic C-section. Afterwards she became so fixated on ‘failing’ to record her birth that she suffered with depression for months. Putting ourselves under such pressure is bonkers.
We’ve been giving birth for centuries without needing to post pictures
Samantha Brick
I also worry that pregnant women poring over images without any context of the births will just end up frightened.
If you don’t understand the background – a high-risk mum, a delivery that caused a life-changing tear – then you’re going to be far more scared than if you just trusted your body.
Women have been giving birth for centuries without needing to post pictures of it.
That’s why I don’t want to see an exhibitionist mum on all fours while 10cm dilated on my timeline.
I applaud the social media sites for banning the images – and I have a right to say so without feeling like I’m letting the sisterhood down.
MOST READ IN FABULOUS
Yes: Sam Carlisle, 50
Lying naked on my back in excruciating pain, I flashed a look at the mirrored ceiling above me, stopped screaming and burst out laughing at the unflattering view of myself. Swollen, sweaty and legs akimbo, I was in an operating theatre having a baby.
My unborn baby, Sonny, had wriggled too far down towards my interior exit door to have the Caesarean docs thought I needed, hence the operating room and screams.
I remember thinking in between those howls and gasps for air 11 years ago: ‘This wasn’t in any of the books!’ It was the same when I had my first child Elvi, 16 years ago. She was born in a birthing pool and somehow I managed it without drugs. Although it sounds idyllic, it was actually pretty barbaric.
It felt as though my hips were being pulled in opposite directions by two juggernauts. And that’s exactly why social media platforms should allow images of birth.
The more we see of the hideously beautiful experience of childbirth, the more we demystify it. If we censor such sights, we are leaving first-time mums to imagine their carefully made birth plans are actually going to be the blueprint for their baby’s entry to the world (stop laughing, experienced mums).
The more women are empowered with information about birth, the better they will cope when things don’t go to plan.
Instagram has a blanket ban on genitalia to avoid accusations of promoting porn, which is why striking childbirth images are often removed. But that is a deeply dangerous message to send to women: because your birth involves your vagina it is obscene and shameful. It’s also hypocritical.
There are thousands of porn-lite images on the platform, which have all the educational value of a stag trip to Amsterdam.
The more we see of childbirth, the more we demystify it
Sam Carlisle
It’s an unspoken rule among experienced mums that you don’t share gruesome stories with pregnant women for fear of scaring them. But if mums-to-be are looking for knowledge, why shouldn’t they find it on platforms that are our growing source of information? There’s clearly a hunger for realism – look at the success of Channel 4’s One Born Every Minute.
Images of crowning heads aren’t to everyone’s taste. However, in just three minutes of browsing Instagram this morning, I saw graphic surgery pics, gruesome motorbike injuries and something called a parastomal hernia, which put me right off my porridge, but I’d never ask for them to be censored.
Fourteen years ago my sister, Sarah, asked me to be at the birth of her daughter. She was in great pain during a 72-hour labour.
When baby Donni emerged, I couldn’t believe how miraculous it felt. And that’s why everyone should have the right to see the reality of birth if they choose to.