birthing_with_a_purpose

Ask a Pelvic Floor PT about second stage - pushing efforts.
Pelvic PTs are the experts of the pelvic floor and all its magic.

Would you believe me if I told you they’re some of the people we should be learning from when it comes to pushing during labor?

Because it’s true.

And what many of us were taught…
“Take a deep breath, hold it, curl around your baby, and push as hard as you can for 10 seconds…”

may not be the most supportive approach for every laboring person.

Pelvic floor PTs understand something important:
a pelvic floor that is tense, guarded, or not coordinating well can make release and descent more difficult.

Think about trying to remove a tampon or menstrual cup while clenching your pelvic floor muscles.
It’s harder, less comfortable, and your body tends to resist instead of release.

Now apply that concept to labor.

The uterus is already doing the work of contracting and bringing baby down.
The pelvic floor’s job isn’t to “fight” that process — it’s to lengthen, soften, and coordinate with it.

That’s why many providers and pelvic PTs now encourage open-glottis pushing:
Exhale.
Breathe.
Follow your body’s cues.
Create pressure without excessive strain or breath-holding.

Because birth support should not just focus on force.
It should focus on function.

And maybe…
instead of teaching people to override their bodies,
we should be teaching them how to work with them.

Do you know how many people—and their partners—are in the thick of labor and are unaware of the body’s anatomy?

Paper towel roll 👉🏼 vaginal canal
Orange 👉🏼 cervix
Cat cup 👉🏼 uterus

Yes… I’m teaching anatomy with household items. 😂

Your cervix is the bridge between your vaginal canal and your uterus.
Not separate. Not random. It’s all connected.

Each part has a role:
👉🏼 Vaginal canal
👉🏼 Cervix
👉🏼 Uterus

And understanding how they connect? That’s where things start to make sense.

⸻

It might look ridiculous… but if it helps you actually see the anatomy, we’re doing it. 😂

What did you already know—and what’s new? ⬇️

Do you know how many people—and their partners—are in the thick of labor and are unaware of the body’s anatomy?

Paper towel roll 👉🏼 vaginal opening and canal
Orange 👉🏼 cervix
Cat measuring cup 👉🏼 uterus

Yes… I’m talking anatomy with household items. 😂

Your cervix is the bridge between your vaginal canal and your uterus.
During pregnancy, it’s typically long, thick, and closed—protecting your baby and keeping everything in line.

As your body prepares for birth, your cervix does its magic:
👉🏼 Softens (also called cervical ripening)
👉🏼 Thins (effaces)
👉🏼 Opens (dilates)

These changes don’t always happen in a straight line—and they look different for everyone.

As the cervix works its magic, baby moves from the cat cup (uterus) into the paper towel roll (birth canal) with the help of uterine contractions.

Before pushing, the cervix is usually:
🔥 100% effaced and 10 cm dilated

And your uterus?
It’s been doing the heavy lifting the whole time—contracting, guiding, and helping baby move safely through the canal to meet you on the other side!

It might look ridiculous… but if it finally helps you see how it’s all connected, I’m doing it. 😂

Sometimes—we are the line.

Community birth is where I’m trained, tested, and proven.

We don’t “toe the line.”
We understand it. Respect it. And when it’s time—we act.

Out-of-hospital birth isn’t reckless—it’s trained, skilled, and prepared.
And our knowledge doesn’t stop where our setting does.

If you’ve never stood in this space—
be curious, not critical.

You can have opinions,
or you can have understanding.

Not both.

What if perinatal care didn’t start at the top—but was built from the foundation up?

What if every provider was trained beneath their scope, not just at it?

Because here’s the truth:
Managing emergencies is a skill.
Supporting physiology is a skill.
Recognizing when not to intervene is a skill.
And they are not the same thing.

Right now, most systems are trained top-down:
Prepared for complications.
Quick to intervene.
Focused on risk mitigation.

And that matters—lives depend on it.

But what if we gave equal weight to the foundation?

→ Understanding physiologic labor
→ Hands-on, high-touch support
→ Creating emotional and psychological safety
→ Knowing when to pause instead of escalate

Because when that foundation is strong:

Low-risk has a better chance of staying low-risk.
Interventions become intentional—not routine.
Care becomes responsive—not reactive.

What if the same provider could:
Sit on the floor, supporting position changes and breath through a contraction
AND
Step in and manage a true emergency with skill and precision?

That’s not unrealistic. That’s alignment.

Not high-tech, low-touch by default.
But high-touch, low-tech when appropriate—
with high-tech ready when necessary.

And let’s be real for a second:

Being trained to manage an emergency
does not automatically mean someone knows how to support normal.

Both should be non-negotiable.

Because people don’t just need to be managed through birth—
they deserve to feel seen, supported, and informed in it.

This is how we shift outcomes.
This is how we change experiences.
This is how we build trust back into birth spaces.

And this is how we renormalize birth.

education

Somewhere along the way, birth got turned into a schedule.
Managed instead of supported.
Rushed instead of respected.
Timed instead of trusted.

Inductions without clear medical need.
Due dates treated like expiration dates.
Monitors leading while hands forget how to feel.
“Routine” care handed out like it fits every body the same.

We built a culture that moves fast.
That reacts before it assesses.
That confuses intensity with emergency.
That calls a signature “consent” even when clarity is missing.
That talks over the person doing the actual work of birth.

This isn’t anti-medicine.
It’s anti-autopilot.

Because birth was never meant to be convenient.
It was meant to be personal.
Purposeful.
Powerful.

What if safety was determined by condition — not the clock?
What if high-touch came before high-tech when it was safe?
What if providers were trained deeply enough to support birth from low-risk and uneventful to high-risk and complex — without defaulting to fear?
What if collaboration replaced hierarchy?
What if education was expected?
What if informed consent always meant understanding, agreement, and real choice?
What if the person giving birth wasn’t managed — but centered?

If we did even half of these “What Ifs,”
we wouldn’t just change statistics.

We’d shift culture.
We’d restore trust.
We’d renormalize birth.

Because birth isn’t a protocol to control.
It’s a person to support.