tokophobia
Tokophobia: fear of pregnancy and/or childbirth. Here are a couple of links:
http://www.geekenough.com/2007/10/27/tokophobia-the-women-who-are-too-terrified-to-give-birth/
http://birthwithconfidence.blogs.lamaze.org/?cat=12
I have always been afraid of getting pregnant. On the second link above I left a comment describing this. I learned about menstruation and babies at age nine, but honestly I had no idea what my mom was really talking about. I took in the facts, but they didn't make any sense to me. A baby comes out from where you pee? Women bleed occasionally, for years and years, from the same place? I really did not make many connections.
In the fifth grade our class was segregated into girls and boys; they sent us girls to another classroom, with a TV and VCR in it. One or two girls went to the library instead. We got little pamphlets that explained menstruation, pubic hair, vaginal discharge, it even had a little monthly calender in it. I remember being mortified, shaky and giggly.
I knew when my first period was coming. My body gave me signs by bloating up, getting acne, making me emotional. I was terrified, and then there it was, that dark spot. I marked something down on the little calender. I called my mom into my room and whispered to her what had happened. She was delighted, like I had make top honor roll or something. I felt stupid, stupid because I didn't do anything; I just waited, and then there it was. And why was she happy about it?? I knew what it meant: there was this vague idea of "being a woman", but really, I knew that it meant that I could get pregnant. And I knew that she didn't want that. I was very confused. Sex was bad, and I'd better not even think about it; but yay, now I could get pregnant!
My fear became really founded when I first had sex. There was the very present fact of the condom. It wasn't a pill, it didn't disappear inside of me somehow, this was the very blatant barrier against my nightmare. There it was, in red rubber: my only hope.
Why did I have sex at all, you ask? Well, my childhood was so devoid of pleasure, as well as independence, that once sex came along I felt like I had won the lottery. This new thing called "good feelings" won out.
So. I had sex, but every month, every single month since I was sixteen and first started having sex, I have been afraid that I will get pregnant. First the fear was connected to the way my parents would react. It was pretty rare that I thought past that point; the threat of my parental punishment itself was almost too much to think about.
When I moved out of my parent's house, the fear remained, but became much more personal. I thought of something growing inside of me, I thought of my body barreling ahead whether I was ready or not, I thought of being slit open like a pack of tightly-wrapped insulation. And that's where I'm at today.
I've been reading through the links above, and I fear the judgment of others when it comes to this. I'm a woman, I'm supposed to look forward to pregnancy; I'm supposed to be happy about it even when I am completely miserable because of it. I know that many women also say that a mom should do what feels best for her. Unfortunately, IME not many have this as a working practice. Everyone puts their hand in the pot when it comes to pregnant women's behavior. In one of the links above, a woman calls tokophobia "not normal, helpful or logical". I mean, ORLY now. "Making choices out of a basis of fear is never a good reason or a good place to begin", she says. She is basically saying the medicalization is the reason for women fearing childbirth. She is ignoring the fact that tokophobia is a real fear, no matter where the fear comes from.
I mean, women do die in childbirth. I would be pushing something extremely large out of me, and I hear it doesn't tickle. There would be something growing inside of me, and I'm sorry, I know I'm bumping up against a taboo here, but that thought freaks me out. Some separate creature would be feeding off of my insides, growing, excreting, writhing. I know it's a baby, but that thought doesn't change the raw facts. I fear the loss of control, I fear the rising chance of injury or death. I fear putting my body through something drastic, again. I fear people rushing around me with instruments and opinions during my birth, talking to my vagina as they try to convince me of things. I fear that I would be lost in the fray, the only concern being my body and the baby. I fear that the patronizing attitude I experience due to my disability would follow me into the delivery room, and I would not be listened to, I would be run over, placated. I fear vaginal tears like nothing else.
I hate the fact that I have decided that if I'm going to have a child, it will be by age 35. That's only four and a half years. I fear that once I become pregnant, my life will be over. I feel that between a repressed, unhappy childhood, a severe injury that stole my peak physical years of living, and my biological clock, that there is no time left for me. I feel panicked, squeezed. I feel hatred that I was born a female. I feel anger that I am going to have to choose whether or not I am going to once again hand my body over to the process of life. I am pissed off, I am resentful, and I do not feel like I have a choice. I mean, why can't he do it? Why is it me that has to put my body through the grinder again??
http://www.geekenough.com/2007/10/27/tokophobia-the-women-who-are-too-terrified-to-give-birth/
http://birthwithconfidence.blogs.lamaze.org/?cat=12
I have always been afraid of getting pregnant. On the second link above I left a comment describing this. I learned about menstruation and babies at age nine, but honestly I had no idea what my mom was really talking about. I took in the facts, but they didn't make any sense to me. A baby comes out from where you pee? Women bleed occasionally, for years and years, from the same place? I really did not make many connections.
In the fifth grade our class was segregated into girls and boys; they sent us girls to another classroom, with a TV and VCR in it. One or two girls went to the library instead. We got little pamphlets that explained menstruation, pubic hair, vaginal discharge, it even had a little monthly calender in it. I remember being mortified, shaky and giggly.
I knew when my first period was coming. My body gave me signs by bloating up, getting acne, making me emotional. I was terrified, and then there it was, that dark spot. I marked something down on the little calender. I called my mom into my room and whispered to her what had happened. She was delighted, like I had make top honor roll or something. I felt stupid, stupid because I didn't do anything; I just waited, and then there it was. And why was she happy about it?? I knew what it meant: there was this vague idea of "being a woman", but really, I knew that it meant that I could get pregnant. And I knew that she didn't want that. I was very confused. Sex was bad, and I'd better not even think about it; but yay, now I could get pregnant!
My fear became really founded when I first had sex. There was the very present fact of the condom. It wasn't a pill, it didn't disappear inside of me somehow, this was the very blatant barrier against my nightmare. There it was, in red rubber: my only hope.
Why did I have sex at all, you ask? Well, my childhood was so devoid of pleasure, as well as independence, that once sex came along I felt like I had won the lottery. This new thing called "good feelings" won out.
So. I had sex, but every month, every single month since I was sixteen and first started having sex, I have been afraid that I will get pregnant. First the fear was connected to the way my parents would react. It was pretty rare that I thought past that point; the threat of my parental punishment itself was almost too much to think about.
When I moved out of my parent's house, the fear remained, but became much more personal. I thought of something growing inside of me, I thought of my body barreling ahead whether I was ready or not, I thought of being slit open like a pack of tightly-wrapped insulation. And that's where I'm at today.
I've been reading through the links above, and I fear the judgment of others when it comes to this. I'm a woman, I'm supposed to look forward to pregnancy; I'm supposed to be happy about it even when I am completely miserable because of it. I know that many women also say that a mom should do what feels best for her. Unfortunately, IME not many have this as a working practice. Everyone puts their hand in the pot when it comes to pregnant women's behavior. In one of the links above, a woman calls tokophobia "not normal, helpful or logical". I mean, ORLY now. "Making choices out of a basis of fear is never a good reason or a good place to begin", she says. She is basically saying the medicalization is the reason for women fearing childbirth. She is ignoring the fact that tokophobia is a real fear, no matter where the fear comes from.
I mean, women do die in childbirth. I would be pushing something extremely large out of me, and I hear it doesn't tickle. There would be something growing inside of me, and I'm sorry, I know I'm bumping up against a taboo here, but that thought freaks me out. Some separate creature would be feeding off of my insides, growing, excreting, writhing. I know it's a baby, but that thought doesn't change the raw facts. I fear the loss of control, I fear the rising chance of injury or death. I fear putting my body through something drastic, again. I fear people rushing around me with instruments and opinions during my birth, talking to my vagina as they try to convince me of things. I fear that I would be lost in the fray, the only concern being my body and the baby. I fear that the patronizing attitude I experience due to my disability would follow me into the delivery room, and I would not be listened to, I would be run over, placated. I fear vaginal tears like nothing else.
I hate the fact that I have decided that if I'm going to have a child, it will be by age 35. That's only four and a half years. I fear that once I become pregnant, my life will be over. I feel that between a repressed, unhappy childhood, a severe injury that stole my peak physical years of living, and my biological clock, that there is no time left for me. I feel panicked, squeezed. I feel hatred that I was born a female. I feel anger that I am going to have to choose whether or not I am going to once again hand my body over to the process of life. I am pissed off, I am resentful, and I do not feel like I have a choice. I mean, why can't he do it? Why is it me that has to put my body through the grinder again??