I knew I was the kind of mom who needed a birth class.
I wanted to know everything leading up to labor and delivery. Knowing alleviated my fears. Understanding quelled my insecurities. To birth well, I needed to understand what my body was doing during each phase of labor. Even more, I wanted to learn how I could graciously welcome my baby into the world. I knew I needed some guidance to do it well.
The local hospital offered an evening class, a one-and-done kind of thing. The birthing center had a two-Saturday option. I looked into an online course as well, something I could do from home in my pajamas at my convenience. All offered valuable content and had skilled facilitators, but I just didn’t see how all the details of birth—still such a mystery—could be covered in such a short time.
When I stumbled across the Bradley Method during some pregnancy reading, I knew it would be a good fit for my husband and me. After all, the Bradley Method is often called husband-coached natural childbirth, and that sentiment fit our hopes well. As first-time parents, we were green. My pregnancy wasn’t planned. Before we saw that surprise positive pregnancy test, we had put absolutely zero thought into what a birth experience might look like for us. But we were united. And we were excited. Our newest adventure was happening, and we were thrilled to be learning together.
With a focus on pregnancy nutrition and exercise, Bradley’s ideology teaches expecting families to approach labor as a team, with natural pain relief and the emotional support of a loving partner.
Developed by Robert A. Bradley, MD, in 1947, the Bradley Method might seem a little archaic to some people. After all, that was nearly 70 years ago! But Bradley’s obstetrics training coupled with his personal history observing farm animals peacefully give birth resulted in a lot of useful wisdom. In the time when Bradley began practicing his method of husband-coached birth, fathers were rarely even allowed in delivery rooms. Bradley knew better and advocated for calm, supportive environments for laboring mothers—quite the pendulum swing from the popular “twilight sleep” births that were prevalent until the 1960s. With a focus on pregnancy nutrition and exercise, Bradley’s ideology teaches expecting families to approach labor as a team, with natural pain relief and the emotional support of a loving partner. Bradley aimed to pair mothers and fathers, equip them, and give them tools for fulfilling, safe birth experiences.
When I told my husband about the Bradley Method, he was immediately on board. We were the first of our friends to have a baby, and he was floundering in his role. Were my cravings normal? How exactly did labor progress? Was skin-to-skin contact after birth really important? Was he supposed to learn about breastfeeding? The Bradley Method would guide him—and us, together—through all of that.
I found a class near us, and this was not a one-Saturday gig. In fact, this class was a lengthy commitment: 12 weeks. The Bradley Method is a class in every sense of the word: There is a curriculum. There is recommended reading. There is required attendance and homework. Participation is crucial. It’s one of those things where you get out what you put in … and we were ready.
In the 12 weeks my husband and I spent in our Bradley classes, we grew close to our instructor and other expecting couples. Together we progressed through the workbook and learned how we were going to tackle labor together. Our Bradley education expanded far beyond how to manage the hours of labor though. Our initial classes focused on pregnancy: elements of nutrition and various exercise ideas. We also practiced positive visualizations for pain management during labor, and my husband learned countless ways to offer support so he could be a physical and emotional resource in getting me through each contraction wave. The Bradley Method also taught us what to expect after birth. With training on infant care and breastfeeding, my husband and I felt equipped to welcome our sweet baby. And, in the least, we gained resources—literature and professional contacts—to turn to when and if we encountered into things we hadn’t learned.
The Bradley Method taught us how to endure. How to ask for help. How to wait.
When the time finally came, many things did not go according to plan. I labored for 40 hours, and it was hard. Seeing me in pain was (and still is) one of my husband’s greatest fears. But because the Bradley Method gave him actionable intel, he was able to direct his worry. He came to my aid hour after hour. He whispered hope into my ear and coached me through hard decisions as we decided our next best step.
We also encountered things the Bradley Method had not prepared us for. Truly, nothing can fully prepare you for the emotions involved in birthing a baby: the sleeplessness, the mounting pain, and the stress of making decisions in a high-stakes situation. But the Bradley Method taught us how to endure. How to ask for help. How to wait. How to advocate for ourselves. Had we not spent those 12 weeks studying, I would not have weathered my labor as well as I did. I would not have had a vaginal delivery, and I would not have looked back on my daughter’s birth knowing that I did everything in my power to obtain our desired outcome: healthy mom and healthy baby.
Ultimately, the Bradley Method taught my husband and me to work together as a team.
Labor wasn’t easy for me, and it wasn’t easy for my husband. But we were prepared.
Ultimately, the Bradley Method taught my husband and me to work together as a team. Our experience during labor was the perfect bridge into parenthood, as we carried the weight of parenting together and he continued to provide support as I breastfed or as we tried to calm toddler tantrums. Even now, a dozen years later, I know we have each other’s backs every step of the way.
Like this piece? Subscribe to our newsletter for real stories about women on their journey to motherhood.