Reading Rosemary's Baby
Perhaps that's why, just weeks after finding out that I was pregnant, I decided to order a copy of Ira Levin's iconic 1967 horror novel Rosemary's Baby.
I'd never read the novel or seen the film adaptation, but I knew the basic premise: Rosemary Woodhouse is manipulated by a Satanic cult (including her up-to-that-point seemingly trustworthy husband) and becomes pregnant with the child of the devil. How terrifying! As I began the novel, I was expecting to encounter the cult's sinister manipulations, male gaslighting galore, and the eventual revelation that Rosemary feels there's Something Wrong™ with her baby.
And there is definitely all of that. But what I was surprised to find is that Rosemary in this novel is not just manipulated by fictional Satanists hiding in plain sight; she is also manipulated significantly by her own desire for a "natural" pregnancy and the trust that she places in her community over traditional medicine.
This struck a real chord with me. I've been tormenting myself this whole pregnancy so far with questions about not just what is safe but what is the most "natural." Every time that I open up my Pintrest app, I see lists on "Tips for Having an All-Natural Birth" or "Home Remedies for a Healthy Pregnancy." Even as doctors insist a medication or habit is safe, you can find mommy blog after mommy blog insisting that those exact same things should be avoided. After all, isn't it better to take care of your baby and play it safe instead of introducing anything "synthetic" or "unnatural"? (A quick note that some "natural" remedies I've seen contain herbs and supplements that may honestly be a LOT more concerning than tested medications on the pharmacy shelves, but I digress...) As I read Rosemary's Baby, I was just generally shocked at how much I recognized Rosemary in both today's mom-to-be culture and in myself.
It's not very surprisingly that many mothers find themselves turning to communities, both off-line and on-line, for information about pregnancy and often trust those sources more than traditional doctors and formal medicine. As Dr. Faye Reiff-Pasarew reflected in her article about online pregnancy communities, "scientific evidence in pregnancy is scarce, stymied by ethical challenges and cultural biases." In the absence of solid evidence and clear scientific directives, women often turn either to each other, in person or to "pregnancy forums where women crowdsource[...] information about their bodies."
While looking through these forums and blogs, while many are varied in focus and perspective, it's inevitable that you'll come across at least a few that promote an "all-natural" pregnancy and birth experience. This "all-natural" movement in pregnancy "began more than 50 years ago as a reaction to the overly rigid approach of midcentury obstetricians." In the mid-century, heavy medication during delivery ("Twilight Sleep") and the removal of women's agency in the birth process, turning many decisions over to the doctor who always presumable "knew best," became increasingly traumatic for many women: "They woke up sore and disoriented, only to be sent home to care for the helpless new human who had appeared in the bassinet beside them."
Thus, more and more, modern women have been skeptical of what traditional science gives as answers, of taking "unnatural" medications, and having any kind of medical procedure or "chemical" that can interfere and affect the anciently "sacred and natural" pregnancy and birthing process.
We can see this all the way back in 1967, as the protagonist Rosemary Woodhouse has an intense desire to do the "right thing" and have a "natural" pregnancy. She does pelvic floor exercises and "has strong feelings on the subject" of having a "Natural Childbirth" (p. 154), a phrase she notably capitalizes in her thoughts throughout the novel.
When the secret Satanists want to separate her from her current OBGYN and instead put her in the care of a doctor more friendly to their coven, they specifically cast doubt on the clinical technique of her current doctor and insist that their own Dr. Sapirstein has not only helped with the pregancies of some very famous people (how many women have encapsulated their placenta because Kim Kardashian said it helped her with post-partum symptoms?) but because of his more "exotic" and natural approach (1960's problematic-content note: Sapirstein's role as a Jewish man is discussed as somehow making him more likely to be understanding of and listen to Rosemary's concerns for a natural pregnancy; he is discussed as having "all the sensitivity of his much-tormented race," p. 101).
Dr. Sapirstein, it turns out, not only "concur[s...] wholeheartedly" with Rosemary's desire for "Natural Childbirth" (p. 154), but he also encourages her not to listen to either traditional medicine or medical books; instead, he assures her that she should trust her own body and instincts. For example, Sapirstein makes it clear that he deviates from the common "theories today" on cravings and nutrition:
"Don't be afraid to satisfy your cravings. The theory today [in the medical field] is that pregnant women invent cravings because they feel it's expected of them. I don't hold with that. I say if you want pickles in the middle of the night, make your poor husband go out and get some, just like in the old jokes. Whatever you want, be sure you get it" (p. 108).
He also shuns the seemingly more medically processed and sterile version of prenatal supplements, insisting that Rosemary should avoid pills from the pharmacy and instead take more "natural" herbal remedies that he'll give the recipe for to her neighbor:
"Minnie Castevet has a herbarium and a blender; I'm going to have her make a daily drink for you that's fresher, safer, and more vitamin-rich than any pill on the market" (p. 109).
As readers, we know (or at least suspect by this point) the dramatic irony of it all: Rosemary doesn't realize that her new doctors and her community of neighbors are all a part of a cult manipulating her and her pregnancy. But it's not that Rosemary is naïve or just stupidly missing the clues that the reader can certainly pick up on; it's more that these manipulations play on her own concerns and care for her child. Her desire to do everything "naturally" and "right."
Thus, it's likely no wonder that the biggest threats to the Satanists' plot in the book come from little moments where Rosemary is confronted by her old friends' concerns that she's not seeing her more traditional doctor, Dr. Hill, or her own worry leading her to research in a mainstream medical pregnancy book (found at the local grocery store) about what a "normal" pregnancy should feel like, the latter event leading Dr. Sapirstein to say,
"I thought you weren't going to read books, Rosemary... all it did was worry you. Will you go home and throw it away, please?" (p. 110).
She agrees and pushes away her concerns for a time, embracing the daily "natural" smoothie and the fact that she is doing what is right for her pregnancy and her body.
By the end of the novel, of course, the evil Satanist plot is revealed and a dramatic scene of Rosemary trying to escape the Satanists ensues. She is ultimately unsuccessful, her labor interrupting her attempt to flee. As she is dragged back to her home by the Satanic cult, strapped to her bed, and drugged, the last thought Rosemary has is not fear for her life or her baby, nor general horror at the Satanists' plot. Instead, it's a horrifying realization that she will not be able to follow her preferred bith plan, a "horror" I've heard expressed and read accounts of by many modern pregnant women forced to accept drugs or an emergency C-section against their hopes at the time of birth as well:
"All the exercises had been for nothing. All wasted energy. This wasn't Natural Childbirth at all" (p. 201).
Perhaps, especially reflecting on it today, the horror of Ira Levin's novel isn't just a secret Satanic cult and terrifying demon babies; maybe it's also the sometimes blinding or confining desire for perfection in pregnancy and the desire to make all the "right" and "natural" choices every step of the way.
After all, you know what they say about the road paved with good intentions and where it can lead.
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