It can also prompt certain people — those who do know what swag is — to take unnecessary steps, and spend unnecessary cash, in the name of perfect experience. Would Blue’s birth have been as “emotional and extremely peaceful,” in
By JOANNA WEISS
New York Times News Service
Presidential primary? Nukes in Iran? No, the most important story of the world last week, according to several scientific and totally reliable social media markers, was the birth of Blue Ivy Carter, daughter of Beyonce and Jay-Z.
It’s hard to remember the last time a child has been so anticipated, on a minute-by-minute basis; Beyonce’s pregnancy announcement set a Twitter record. Sadly for baby Blue, her birth turned into a minor public-relations disaster — largely because of the costs of her arrival, which included a mega-deluxe private suite at New York’s Lenox Hill Hospital and a vast security detail roaming the halls.
The New York press went wild, especially after some parents charged that Blue’s security guards had blocked them from the neonatal intensive care unit. Parents also griped that the guards wore tags that said “Special Event.” It was as if, these parents fumed, nothing else that happened in the maternity ward that day was special.
Aha! Celebrity solipsism, it turned out, was colliding head-first with the equally powerful force of parental solipsism. In which case, Beyonce deserves a break. Sure, she was setting a new standard for celebrity indulgence, but she was also carrying a universal wish to its logical conclusion.
In some ways, the Carters’ childbirth plan wasn’t so much unlike what many people do; they went to a hospital armed with their own music and a plan for how things would proceed. They just happened to have the money for a more indulgent plan — and the temerity to cover the windows and block the security cameras, since we’re only supposed to gawk at celebrities when it’s convenient for them.
It’s easy to hate that level of celebrity egomania. But rich and famous people have long set the standards for birth, notes my friend Tina Cassidy, the author of “Birth: A Surprising History of How We Are Born.”
Hospital births became popular, nearly a century ago, after wealthy socialites chose to have their babies under medication-induced “twilight sleep.” Victoria Beckham helped spark a wave of C-sections when she scheduled a child’s birth to fit her husband’s soccer schedule. Now, the rich are in the vanguard of the home birth movement; Gisele Bundchen famously delivered Tom Brady’s son in her home bathtub.
In fact, celebrity can be used for ill or good, and Beyonce will have plenty of opportunity to leverage her star status to connect with parents who aren’t famous. Here’s one suggestion: A group of mothers, who staged a nationwide “nurse-in” at Target stores, now wants “Sesame Street” to put a breastfeeding mother on the air, to combat public squeamishness. Beyonce, meet Elmo.
It would be a brilliant move on more than one level: Beyonce could indulge her Beyonceness but, by allowing herself to be seen in the mundane act of feeding a child, also prove that she’s still got plenty in common with regular moms. She’ll also be passing along a message that the joys and trials of motherhood extend well beyond the moment of giving birth.
It’s great to have control over the birth experience, but there’s also a danger in over-thinking it all. For some women, a healthy child isn’t an adequate goal; the birth has to be “empowering,” too. And if it falls short of expectations, for reasons beyond anyone’s control, that can lead to unnecessary guilt or regret.
It can also prompt certain people — those who do know what swag is — to take unnecessary steps, and spend unnecessary cash, in the name of perfect experience. Would Blue’s birth have been as “emotional and extremely peaceful,” in the words of her parents’ official statement, if she had been born in a standard-issue hospital room? Maybe, maybe not. But the result would have been the same.
