‘Fetus ejection reflex’, ‘milk
ejection reflex’, ‘sperm ejection reflex’, ‘orgasmogenic cocktail’ . .
. These are examples of terms used by Michel Odent in his study of the
ecstatic/orgasmic states associated with different episodes of human
sexual life. This book about male and female orgasms is an opportunity
to convince anyone that humanity is at a turning point. Due to the
improved technique of medically assisted conceptions and cesareans, the
advances in anesthesiology and pharmacology, and the development of the
food industry, women can now conceive a baby, give birth and feed their
infant without relying on the release of ‘cocktails of love hormones’.
Human intelligence and ingenuity have made love hormones redundant. Let
us think long-term and let us raise questions in terms of civilization.
The future of humanity is at stake.
Reviews:
"Odent's [book] is a stylish polemic that mixes endocrinology,
comparative anthropology, philology, anecdotes from the author's own
medical practice." Steven Poole, The Guardian
"If you've wondered why you walked away from birth and felt
cheated, if you've struggled with breastfeeding, this book makes
perfect sense of your disillusionment or feelings of 'disconnect'. It
reignites our most fundamental needs and expectations as sexual beings.
This book is worth buying for the last two pages alone: a Dear John
letter, where a woman states her plans for their 'natural' wedding
night. I roared with laughter, because it shows how clearly, even in
the natural birthing movement, we're so far removed from what is
natural. I can't recommend this book highly enough." Veronika Sophia
Robinson, The Mother
from chapter 2: Exploring the ultimate steps of the birth ladder
It happened in a London hospital. A woman was about to give birth to
her first baby. A student midwife, an experienced doula and the father
were invisible and silent, sharing the sacredness of the moment. At the
very time when the ecstatic mother-to-be, who was standing up, started
to say ‘What a pleasure!’, ‘It’s like making love’, ‘The baby is
coming’, and at the precise moment when the perineum started moving,
the door suddenly burst open. A female doctor entered the room,
shouting: ‘I need to make an assessment. You must lie down on the
table’. The birthing woman repeated, in an imploring tone: ‘Please,
please, I beg you, I beg you…’ Some time later a drip of synthetic
oxytocin was necessary to get the baby out… It is easy to interrupt an
orgasm.
Very few health professionals know – or can even imagine – what a birth
can be like. From the end of 1953 leading into 1954, I spent six months
as an ‘externe’ (a medical student with minor clinical
responsibilities) at the maternity unit of the Hôpital Boucicaut in
Paris. My colleagues and I were occasionally given the opportunity to
sit in the chief obstetrician’s office in the presence of the chief
midwife, the most powerful, fearsome, and unnerving person in the unit.
During this encounter we were supposed to ask the doctor about
particular issues relating to pregnancy and childbirth. I imagine how
the doctor would have responded if I’d asked: ‘Can giving birth be an
ecstatic experience?’ or ‘Can a birthing place become a sacred place?’
The doctor would probably have sent me to the local psychiatrist.
The emergence of new perspectives
Today, more and more articles, conferences, documentaries, and books
are openly referring to the idea of ecstatic or orgasmic birth and to
the sacredness of childbirth. In 1982 a BBC television crew paid a
visit to the French hospital where I was practicing. During the visit a
young woman gave birth to her first baby, which happened to be breech.
An hour or two after the event the well-known BBC presenter Esther
Rantzen asked the mother how she’d felt when the baby had arrived. The
mother opened her big, expressive eyes and simply replied: ‘It was like
an orgasm!’ Another woman once told me: ‘When I looked at my baby’s
eyes for the first time, just after the birth, I saw the whole universe
in her eyes.’