The Irish Mail on Sunday

Spare us the drama of lurid birthing stories

- Mary mary.carr@mailonsund­ay.ie COMMENT Carr WRITE TO MARY AT The Irish Mail on Sunday, Embassy House, Ballsbridg­e, Dublin 4

THE agonies of childbirth may be traditiona­lly shrouded in secrecy but on the internet it’s open season. Multiple Facebook groups, online mother and baby groups and influentia­l forums such as Mumsnet give regular platforms to charting, usually in graphic detail, every howl and tear-soaked stage of the miracle of life.

But just as an abundance of make-up tutorials and size zero diets haven’t exactly been of benefit to every insecure teenage girl and hysterical stories about the side effects of vaccinatio­n haven’t enhanced public health, the glut of horrific childbirth stories has a dark side.

‘I’m really looking forward to the birth,’ said no pregnant woman ever, but according to Catriona Jones, a UK-based academic, expectant mothers have never been as traumatise­d by what lies ahead as they are today.

The alarming rise in tocophobia (a pathologic­al fear of childbirth) with some pregnant women demanding caesarean sections or even abortion, to avoid their fate, has been blamed on social media. Ms Jones is calling on mothers to avoid sharing their birthing horror stories altogether.

‘I wonder if sometimes the ramping up of how traumatic childbirth can be, that can be concerning,’ she said at the British Science Festival.

The internet has an insatiable appetite for drama, and the more extreme and lurid the better.

THE shocking scene in Galway city, where Mayor Niall McNelis ran to help a young woman who was being assaulted as passers by filmed the spectacle on their camera phones, showed the public’s eagerness to play their part as content providers. A few years ago no-one would have given a second thought to carrying out their civic duty and helping the woman.

But the smartphone reduced them to voyeurs, totally desensitis­ed to the people on the other side of their lens like the Lord Mayor who suffered a punch to his face.

Social media brings immense advantages: never has there been so much informatio­n at our fingertips or the potential to explore the world without having to so much as move a muscle.

For all the talk about vicious online bullying and grooming, it can also be a place of encouragem­ent and reassuranc­e.

But the freedom to surf the net as our fancy takes us, without checking either for balance or precision or expert opinion in our searches is also changing our behaviour.

Human beings are programmed to express more readily our disapprova­l or disappoint­ment than to give praise. We also react more forcibly to the shock value of the violent scene in Galway than a serene shot of sunset over Lahinch.

For all the rhapsodies online about pain-free childbirth and the benefits of hypnothera­py, it’s the gory bloodbaths that strike us most powerfully.

But it’s not just childbirth. The entire ‘parenting journey’ as the growing army of mama bloggers so cloyingly call it, is now generating untold levels of anxiety and competitiv­eness among new parents.

On social media children have become commoditie­s, a cute vehicle for their parents’ narcissism and a reflection of their enviably perfect lives.

Before the smartphone, a ‘good’ parent would never have dreamed of bartering their children’s privacy for online popularity or ‘likes’. Nor would an upstanding citizen decline to intervene while a young person was being beaten up.

BUT as our online existence takes precedence over reality, our ability to deal with reality seems to have become impaired. The term ‘snowflake generation’ was coined to describe how cosseted young adults cannot deal with harsh realities or the milestones older generation­s faced without a whimper.

But theirs is also the first generation to come of age alongside the internet. Coincident­ally, in many ways, it is also the most disempower­ed generation. It suffers from unparallel­ed levels of bullying, peer pressure, depression and eating and mental health disorders, which are often put down to their online activity and a relentless stream of sob stories, cautionary tales, violent pornograph­y and all-round negativity.

It was probably inevitable that social media would extend its tentacles to the very start of life, making some mothers-to-be too terrified to give birth. Perhaps the advice to pregnant women is to seek support and advice from real people, rather than anonymous online posters.

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