Jen Hamilton’s “Birth Vibes: Stories and Strategies for an Empowered Birth” shot to number one on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists this year, riding the wave of the labor-and-delivery nurse’s millions of social media followers. The book makes a simple pitch to expectant parents: abandon the strict birth plan in favor of a looser, overall “birth vibe.”
I first gave birth 12 years ago and went into the hospital with exactly one item on my birth plan: Do not have a C-section. That plan failed.
My C-section was emergent and medically necessary for the safety of my daughter, so I have no regrets about it. But reading Hamilton’s book made me wonder what her philosophy would have meant for someone in my position whose birth experience went dramatically off-script and required doctors to intervene quickly.
Hamilton immediately presents herself as someone fun and personable. She’s the kind of L&D nurse any expectant mom would want. Think of an animated, overly familiar attendant who’s full of jokes and silly euphemisms.
Some people like that kind of thing. Some do not.
It’s clear that Hamilton runs the birthing room with a blend of familiarity and competence, pitching herself as a teammate against any number of obstacles: harried doctors, pushy relatives, and clueless spouses. Her enthusiasm is almost enough to overlook her use of phrases like “pregnant friend” and her insistence on asking patients for their pronouns.
But the more consequential message of “Birth Vibes” is Hamilton’s emphasis on a laboring mother’s ability to advocate for what she wants and to treat a doctor’s recommendations as exactly that.
As someone who likes following rules, I found this uncomfortable, particularly when it comes to something as important and unpredictable as childbirth. So I spoke with Susie Conrad, a self-described Hamilton follower and birthing doula with 10 years of experience.
We discussed one chapter in particular that made me nervous.
In it, a laboring mother announced that she would tolerate “NO NEGATIVITY” in the birthing room, no matter what happened. She refused interventions from the medical team even after her baby’s heart rate became elevated and she began experiencing fever-related teeth chattering.
Eventually, the baby was born safely, and to her immense relief, it wasn’t a c-section. But as I read the story, I couldn’t help wondering whether the mother’s determination to control the experience had gone too far. What happens when “advocating for yourself” turns into refusing to listen when medical professionals become concerned?
I asked Conrad whether this was typical. She said it isn’t.
“I’ve never seen someone try to stick to a decision that’s putting their baby in jeopardy,” she told me.
Conrad defended Hamilton’s central thesis, agreeing that the “birth vibes” framework is preferable to a fixed birth plan.
“I did like her approach,” Conrad said, calling it more open-minded than other birth books she has read, even though she agreed that the more extreme case Hamilton included did little to set anyone’s mind at ease.
The most useful part of the book, in Conrad’s view, had to do with asking permission — or, more accurately, realizing that a woman doesn’t necessarily have to agree immediately to every recommendation made in the delivery room.
The veteran doula and mother of seven said she went into her own first labor not knowing she was allowed to change positions in bed, let alone question a doctor’s proposed intervention.
“I think the one thing to know is that [mothers] have a lot of control in labor,” she said.
Her advice to anyone heading into a delivery room is to remember one simple request: Just ask for a minute. “The golden phrase is, ‘Can we just have a minute?’” she advised.
Conrad said that pause gives a mother time to ask what a proposed intervention actually means, what the alternatives are, and what might happen if she waits.
“I’ve seen providers, nurses, doctors … the respect that comes in when someone asks for that pause,” she said.
That’s good advice, assuming the situation allows for a pause.
And that, ultimately, is where my biggest hesitation with “Birth Vibes” came in. There is a meaningful difference between encouraging women to understand what is happening to their bodies and encouraging them to view medical recommendations as obstacles killing the “vibe.”
Conrad, who is immersed in the world of childbirth, was largely unfazed by Hamilton’s terminology, including phrases like “pregnant friend.” But for someone outside that world — and particularly someone who spends her professional life in news media — the book’s use of ultra woke progressive terminology is difficult to overlook.
I’m not the only one who noticed.
One Goodreads reviewer gave the book two out of five stars, specifically criticizing its language.
“I was disappointed (but not surprised) at how woke the book was,” the reviewer wrote, complaining that Hamilton refers to “a pregnant friend or birthing person” rather than simply a woman or mother. The reviewer also objected to some of the book’s crude language and LGBTQ examples, saying it made the book difficult to recommend to Christian mothers.
“Couldn’t get past the wokeness!!!! ARGH!!!” another critical reviewer agreed.
Ultimately, *Birth Vibes* isn’t a terrible book. But it is a very specific book for a very specific audience.
The first half offers stories from Hamilton’s experiences in the birthing room, while the second half shifts into advice and explanations of the possible outcomes and complications of labor. For women who already love Hamilton and follow her online, the book will likely feel like an extension of the philosophy they already know and love.
The book’s central message is worth considering. Women should understand their options, ask questions, and advocate for themselves during childbirth. But there’s another lesson worth remembering, too. A birth plan is only a plan, and sometimes plans have to change.
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