What is Natural Family Living? from Peggy O'Mara

Issue 130
By Peggy O'Mara

A few months ago I got a call from a reporter who wanted me to define natural family living for an article she was writing for the Seattle Times. Just yesterday a friend told me that the article had turned up in the Baltimore Sun. Until now I have resisted defining natural family living, for several reasons.

First, at its best, natural family living defies general definition because it is about discovering what is natural for each individual. Second, I don’t want parents to think they must follow rules in order to be good at parenting. And third, natural family living is not a movement, a fad, or a custom. It is about getting back to our roots as humans and rediscovering the parenting skills that have sustained humans throughout history and prehistory.

I got started with natural family living in the 1970s, when my first babies were born. At that time, there was a burgeoning natural-living movement that had been catalyzed by young people who had gone “back to the land” during the Vietnam War and rediscovered sustainable ways of living.

In the 1970s, for example, many of us grew our own organic food, made our own herbal remedies, and searched in second-hand stores for cotton clothing for our children. These things were not yet popular enough to be widely available.

When I became pregnant with my first child, I read all the books I could get my hands on. I was a vegetarian who didn’t take over-the-counter drugs, and I wanted to continue living with these values as I raised my babies. I needed living examples who would give me confidence in the natural way.

I read the anthropological writings of Margaret Mead, in which she talked about common characteristics shared by tribal peoples. Babies in tribes are integrated easily into their societies. They are born at home, breastfed without restrictions, and held in arms. Children are not routinely separated from adults, and adults work with children in their arms or at their side.

I was inspired by tribal societies and by the idea of a life that would integrate my experiences as a woman with my experiences as a mother. I lived on a farm at the time, and that, too, gave me confidence in natural living. As a new mother, I understood that it was not having a baby that made motherhood oppressive, but my social isolation. I wanted a bigger, more positive picture of motherhood than was popular at the time.

Of course, at that time, there was no such thing as natural family living. Many of us were just trying to figure out what it meant to do things in as natural a way as possible. And, then as now, there were the purists, the extremists, and the “occasional natural livers.”

My new knowledge of the natural world ran parallel with what I was learning about attachment parenting from my baby and from the La Leche League meetings I attended each month. Attachment parenting is very much a part of natural family living. It appreciates that the first three to five years of life are a critical period for developing trust, empathy, dependency, and optimism.

Natural family living views pregnancy and birth as normal bodily processes, not disease states. Therefore, interventions are avoided during pregnancy in favor of human interaction. A person interested in natural living, for example, might choose to have her midwife palpate her abdomen to determine the baby’s size and age rather than opt for an intervention such as ultrasound.

Similarly, birth is seen as a normal event that does not require drugs or intervention. Birth is not perceived this way because women who embrace the natural way are more heroic or tolerant of pain. It is perceived this way simply because a drug-free mother and baby have distinct advantages. A mother avails herself of an ecstatic birth chemistry that unlocks a dormant, instinctual maternal intelligence; a baby begins life without having imprinted on drugs and awake enough to successfully breastfeed.

It is not surprising, then, that the ideas of natural family living meet at the intersection of instinct and science. Personal intuition is often supported by scientific evidence. Homebirth is a good example of this. Homebirth fosters the intimacy and privacy necessary for an optimum birth. Its safety is also supported by scientific evidence, evidence that consistently demonstrates that birth is safe in any setting.

The ideas of drug-free birth and homebirth are not dogmas, but are good news. They become serious options only if one begins to trust in the natural order of things. Above all, natural family living is about this trust. It is not about making homebirth a dogma; it is about believing that it is safe. If we can believe that homebirth is safe, we will believe that birth in general is safe.

Breastfeeding is an obvious expression of natural family living. One can trust that human milk is the best food for a baby. One can trust, too, that a baby will wean in his or her own time. This is easier said than done in a culture where the vast majority of babies don’t nurse past six months, but it gets easier with subsequent babies to rely on this trust. And again—like birth, natural family living is not about rules but about a way to see the world. It is about learning to trust in our own inherent wisdom and the wisdom of our babies.