So it looks like Matt made a specific choice to tell this story; that of the journey of childbirth for women. Some of it, of the fog, was very specific to Betty; to her character–the inchworm, her father, etc. I’m not talking about any of that. I am talking about the experience of the period; the one that it seemed every woman had. Betty, Francine, the prison guard’s wife.
From the moment Betty entered that hospital her choices were taken away, her requests ignored. Her pen was empty. Her doctor wasn’t coming. One by one, whatever it was that Betty wanted was simply removed from the scene.
The other time I saw this so viscerally displayed was on thirtysomething, in an episode called New Baby.
That episode, like The Fog, had an oddness to its look and feel. In The Fog, camera angles were strange and gave the entire show, even before Betty’s labor began, a weird, dreamlike feel. That aspect actually reminded me of the Buffy, the Vampire Slayer episode The Body. The Body was all about death. These, The Fog and New Baby, are about birth. But you get awful close to death in order to make that happen. Gene mopping up that blood was not so subtle.
I am not a mom. I will likely never be a mom. I am writing this as a television viewer and as a woman. But not as a woman who has given birth.
New Baby didn’t have funky camera angles, but it did reverse the time–the episode opens with Susannah very late in her labor; depleted, in agony, and ready to give up, and then it cuts to an hour earlier (you literally see the clock move backwards). The entire episode goes this way, back hours and days. You watched as she made wonderful choices that you’d already witnessed not working out.
The Fog also has some time mentions–watches, specifically. Ken was bragging about his watch, a gift from his Birds Eye client. And you never wear a nice gold watch when you work in a prison camp.
Thirtysomething was the late 1980s. This was an educated, politically active, ‘advanced’ sort of hippie-esque couple doing everything right–they’d read up, asked all the questions, taken LaMaze classes, reserved a birthing room (decorated like home, with all those nasty monitors behind curtain #2), and they were prepared with her favorite visuals to focus on (an island photo, if I recall) and music to soothe her (Pachelbel’s Canon).
And yet none of it helped. The birthing room wasn’t available. From the moment she checked in to the hospital she’s on ice chips–just in case there needs to be a C-section, you can’t eat. She labors and she weakens. So now you’re all evolved and no-drugs-like-one-of-those-’50s-housewives-for-me and shit, but you’re drained, literally.
New Baby showed that all that advancement and education and everything we’d believed we’d moved past–in the end you had a frightened, tortured woman with no strength, no dignity and practically no will. And then the baby is there and Mommy is beaming.
And there they are, Betty and Francine, smiling their Stepford smiles.
The Fog tells a different story, one where there was no information, and very little fight going in. Betty walked in blind, even though this was her third time. Betty wasn’t fascinated by the life that was inside her–we got that from her conversation with Mr. Bellytoucher in My Old Kentucky Home. Neither was she interested in questioning or affecting the conditions of this birth. Until she actually started going through it. Then it was, I want Don, I want my doctor, why do we have to do it this way or that way.
It was fascinating too that it was this society of women putting her through this–all those nurses, seemingly conspiring for her not to worry her pretty little head; just take your drugs and you’ll forget all this ugliness. In thirtysomething the doctor was a woman as well (played by Patricia Heaton).
But in both shows, in both eras, we saw the ugliness. The lack of choices. The varying levels of compassion couching Yes honey, but this is how we’re doing it. The barbarism that is childbirth in the modern American experience.
135 Responses to “New Baby”
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I haven't seen this mentioned yet, but isn't Don kind of a criminal too? With Anna Draper's full co-operation of course. Identity theft, fraud, desertion. The irony of that meeting is hard to ignore. That was interesting look on his face when Dennis asked if he heard him about being a better man. It almost seemed like he was getting a pep talk from a superior.
riverdaughter, "New Baby" is not redundant. A 13 month old is a baby. The technical term for a new baby is a neonate, and it is medically distinct from a baby.
After just watching last night's episode again, the final sequence with Betty struck me differently that it did the first time around. Last night it felt ominous, but this afternoon it reasonated with me more and I certainly recalled feeling that resignation.
It's the middle of the night, you're exhausted and sore, the baby is crying and even though it's bottle-fed you know darned good and well your husband won't get up and it's your responsibility. When Betty paused, that was what struck me. I recall pausing in my hallway on the way to the nursery, feeling trapped, feeling resentful. It didn't mean I didn't love my baby or wanted to harm her, it's just something that you go through when you're sleep deprived and your hormones are shifting.
The image of the prison bars on her back were wonderful symbolism.
I was horrified by the birth sequence, I can't believe that is how it was done! My mother even told me today that she was shocked to see how real it all looked, it kind of freaked her out. Ugh…awful…
Every era has it's barbaric strictures… when I was induced in 1988 because of pre-eclampsia, my HMO was instituting a crackdown on C-sections… too many being done so they were only to be used if the baby was in distress… hours later I was begging for a C-section as shift after shift of nurses rotated through with perky questions about how things were progressing… but by that time it was too late for a C-section… my son was already in the birth canal… after 37 1/2 hours of labor he was squeezed out of me by an orderly as I was so exhausted I was no longer feeling my contractions and they had to watch the monitors to tell me when to push as I could no longer tell when I was contracting… I had an epidural but they could only refresh it in between my 20-30 minute long contractions… they had me on oxygen to help my baby who was exhausted as well… the baby was turned a bit in the canal and stuck slightly and so tired… the only reason I wasn't sent home the next day and got at least one good night's sleep before going on duty as a new mom was that my baby was so exhausted they wanted to keep monitoring him for another 24 hours… my poor husband was there with me standing by the bed holding my hand the whole time with only one break to go home to let my poor dog out of his crate!!! Hard to believe that three years later we had the gumption to have our second but hormones are powerful things and you do forget the pain… my younger son was due the same day and was born three years later one day earlier than his older brother… the second child was so much easier it was amazing… I had an epidural that time too and quit having contractions so they took me off the meds and I had him in 11 hours and at the end naturally… so much better!!!! But my first-time experience made me long for the days of knock her out and deliver the baby!!!!
I can see Betty suffering a debilitating post-partum depression, smoking, not eating, retreating inside herself (like she did before being sent to the shrink), but not necessarily hurting Sally, Bobby, or Gene. She already tends to withdraw into herself — trying to preserve that perfect image of wife, mother, hostess.
Sadly, I could see Betty hurting herself in some way. Oh, I hope not.
My Mom was born in 1923 and raised two girls, one born in the 1950's, me in 1961 and later told me how stressful the "perfection" of the era was. She was tiny — probably smaller than Betty — but had to wear a long line bra and girdle so that nothing jiggled or moved. She felt pressured to have a perfectly clean home all the time. She tried to keep my sister clean all the time (she gave up by the time I came around!) Even going to church was stressful because there was social pressure to wear the right hat, matching shoes and purse, etc., and my folks didn't have that kind of money. At any rate, as an older woman, she looked back on it all and realized that she was probably depressed the whole time in one way or the other. But admitting that she was would mean she wasn't "perfect," and who wanted to admit to that? So she worked like crazy to keep the house clean 24/7, cooked, sewed, smoked to keep thin, and kept whatever stressed her out to herself.
#109 Deborah_ Lipp. It's a joke. Like hot water heater. My mom and I laugh about this term every time we hear it. It's sort of like game show contestants who say about themselves, "I have a wonderful husband, Jack, who I am married to".
I'm very familiar with the term neonate. But the word "baby" connotes newness even if technically the kid is old enough to change his own diapers.
Betty's need to excuse herself and visit the restroom at Sally's school, very likely had to do with a temporary condition that hits many pregnant woman.
Pregnancy plays havoc with a woman's endocrine system and one of the hormones that is affected is one that controls thirst and liquid input/output. It's a condition known as Diabetes insipidus (sometimes called "water diabetes").
About 20 years ago, I had surgery to remove a benign tumor on my pituitary gland, which damaged the area that produces this same hormone. So I have to take a replacement hormone daily, that keeps me from drinking and peeing incessantly.
Of course, carrying a baby for nine months will, in the latter stages of pregnancy, put pressure on the bladder, which also adds to the discomfort and symptoms.
Not sure if this has been mentioned yet, but "Eugene" is greek for "of good birth." Another way of saying it is "good genes."
And no, I didn't learn that from a used car salesman named Teddy.
Speaking of The Wheel, Don's definition of nostalgia isn't quite right. It is an ache in the heart, but a literal translation is an "ache for home." Nostos being home.
Which is exactly what Don's aching for as he delivers the pitch. But he doesn't mention it. Brilliant writing, but need I say it?
More Greek for Mad Men: Rachel Menken mentions the literal meaning of utopia, which is based on an ambiguity in the term. She has it completely right and that's one of my favorite scenes in the entire series. It can mean both the "good place" and "no place".
@82, that is horrible and scary how badly your mother was treated when she was losing her baby. That was just 2 years before I was born. I shudder to think about such a thing. I’m glad your mother made it through, despite that misguided judge. Thank you for sharing that.
@72 The guard may have been wheeling his wife to the nursery. The father’s waiting room scenario allowed two people, who would otherwise not interact, to let their guard down. When Don passes the guard in the hallway, their reserve was back in place.
The guard character rang eerily true. My husband works in corrections for a sheriff’s department. He works in a major central jail where people are waiting trial— small time burglars to major heads of drug cartels are mixed together and unless they are segregated, one cannot tell who is more dangerous than the other.
At the time of our first son’s birth , my husband told me that “all of the inmates that he walked amongst, unarmed,was once newborn who had a mother and father. How did these men get to a place where they chose a path of bad choices that led to their incarceration?”
Don knows the power of choices. Unfortunately, Betty’s birth experience shows how choices have always been made for her. Betty is so repressed that she can only fight for her wishes when she is under sedation.
I am continuously blown away my how Matt Weiner and Co. presents the human condition to us.
#93, It’d be so much easier if I could somehow arrange a guest post about it; it’s so much easier to go through a chart with the image visible.
Considering how soul-crushing Betty’s pre-partum depression has been, I am not looking forward to her post-partum depression. Hope she’s at least got the kids enrolled in day camp this summer, or I fear for their safety.
Mari, contact us for guest writer permissions.
Also… did anyone get the bit about the prison guard enthusing about having a boy and anticipating throwing the ball around with his boy? He asked Don if he did that sort of thing with his boy and Don said not nearly enough… if memory serves Sally is who gets the lion’s share of what “Daddy-time” there is available… Bobby gets reprimands… Bobby has been pretty much invisible except when he is called on the carpet for one misdeed or another…
"I can see Betty suffering a debilitating post-partum depression, smoking, not eating, retreating inside herself (like she did before being sent to the shrink), but not necessarily hurting Sally, Bobby, or Gene. She already tends to withdraw into herself — trying to preserve that perfect image of wife, mother, hostess."
I liked this comment, and really feel for Betty, too, not because I'm anything like her. I see my sister in her because she also tries SO HARD to be the perfect worker, wife, homemaker and mother. With that comes a certain detachment. Where the rubber meets the road, I think, one can get a little numb.
Taking care of little kids is EXHAUSTING, and I really feel for all mothers, and Betty, too. We see in this episode after the baby is born, Don resting on a couch in his office. Where's Betty's nap? No one is going to let her be alone in a room and lie down (once she's recovered from her horrific-looking delivery, that is). Working full-time is much easier than raising even a single child, even if just by simply getting an actual lunch break.
My mom had 8 kids (9 pregnancies, losing one halfway thru term), between 1956 and 1971. The nurse at my baby brother's birth, in 1971, asked my dad if he wanted to go to the delivery room – he said "she's on autopilot and doesn't need me". Mom did tell me she was glad for the pain meds, and that the shave/enema was humiliating, but that 'germs' and fecal matter would be more humiliating (to her)…so…my own daughter was born without aid of medication (it was tough, but I remember it)…and my mom was shocked that I was able to handle it, saying that if she would NOT have been 'knocked out' she would've never had a second kid.
THESE BLOGS ARE MORE INTERESTING THAN THE SHOW. THEY NEED TO PICK UP THE PACE OR I MAY DRIFT AWAY.
river, sorry I didn't catch the humor. Internets are like that sometimes.
Frosty, you were warned once about caps lock. Last warning.
Posting at last, for the first time since watching the episode (twice!), to say that it shook me up. Thoroughly.
My sister sensed how upset I was when Bets was heading into the wost of the contractions in the hospital, and called me to say the equivalent of "chill — it's all right."
She lives in Seattle and I'm in SF. She's good.
I have a theory about childbirth. I think it's incredibly heroic, even on today's terms: it's the closest a woman ever swings to mortality when she's in her prime. Yet we're somehow all expected to do it. Several times, even!
I mean. WTF?!?!?
Because so many of those I love had tough deliveries, or are still in their productive years, "The Fog" was difficult for me to watch. But the episode's depiction of childbirth rang true to its time, even if it was harrowing to watch. Women of my mother's generation have indicated that childbirth was more or less a long, female-only, very private hell. (My mom is more of a sugarcoater; she claims not to remember.)
And the scene with Don and the kids, waving to Betty and baby from outside on the sidewalk: I'm one of six, and I remember that. That was dead-on accurate.
Kudos to Matt, Jon, and especially Jan on this one. Great job.
So let's see… You jump a husband you rightfully distrust and and are pissed at in one of the lowest points of your marriage. OK, happens. Unprotected sex happens. Then pregnancies happen. Which… with this being your third, you're bound to be well aware of. Then you're giving the opportunity to not have that child at all. But you choose to have it just like you chose to jump on that husband. He didn't force himself on you, he didn't threaten you or pressure you to have another baby in any way. Nobody did.
Then you're understandably feeling trapped and unhappy, shadow-bars on the back, blah blah blah. But somehow… this would have been oh SO much better if there was a little girl wailing next door and waking you up and consumming all your energy? As if you're being such a dotting mother to the one you already have (with hired help)… and as if a baby girl would have been so much non-unhappy-making because she doesn't have an oppresive little penis you have to tuck in those diapers. Boy or girl, this baby didn't exactly conceive itself nor did it ask to be born.
This is no different to me than reading everywhere that grandpa Gene was so "creepy" and "inappropriate" and surely on the cusp of molesting Sally. I think my comprehension box is broken.
I really felt like watching Betty was like watching my own my mother. The fog state reminded me of her describing my brother's birth. She believes to this day that she died on the table. She remembers walking around the birthing room, watching as Jay was born. My father, who was allowed to be with her for this birth (the only one at a non-Catholic hospital and the only one he was allowed to attend). He swears she didn't die, because the dead can't yell at their husbands.
January Jones did a lovely job. I am going to show this episode to my mother. She is my 1960's resource person.
Oh, and they telegraphed the sex of the baby during the wedding ring on a chain scene. Back and forth means boy (penis), circle means girl (vagina). I didn't think MW would put it in if it wasn't important.
[...] KBH found a couple more: Don says, “It’s not a good time†to the guard in the waiting room. [...]
Betty's birth scene is so different from what women experience these days.. and if it was so distressing for a married woman having her third, we got some real insight into what Peggy must have endured. Despite being the least patient person alive, I love the way the Mad Men characters' stories are told over time.
After long nights spent in the waiting room with my mother's other births, Dad talked Mom into waiting when it was time for me to arrive (and I was nine days overdue).
The procedure for the first two births had been to get Mom into a "labor room" which was like a regular hospital room, and then they'd go get Dad to pop in and say goodbye before they took her to delivery and he returned to the fathers' room.
Well, he made her wait so long I crowned in the elevator on the way to the labor room, so they took her straight to delivery instead. When they came to get him, he thought it was just the beginning of the wait, but it was the end. The nurse thought he was going to faint.
(Mom says if I'd been a boy she'd have named me Otis after the elevator company.)
Anne B: I have a theory about childbirth. I think it’s incredibly heroic, even on today’s terms: it’s the closest a woman ever swings to mortality when she’s in her prime. Yet we’re somehow all expected to do it. Several times, even!
The other advantage to the present era's practice of having your mate in the delivery room with you is that he will come out of it convinced you are a hero. The glory lasts a little while.
“I can see Betty suffering a debilitating post-partum depression, smoking, not eating, retreating inside herself (like she did before being sent to the shrink), but not necessarily hurting Sally, Bobby, or Gene. She already tends to withdraw into herself — trying to preserve that perfect image of wife, mother, hostess.â€
Yes, yes, yes. Did you see her coming home outfit? Pink, with ruffles? Did you see that Norman Rockwell scene that they put on for Francine — who knows the actual truth about this baby, that Betty did not want it?
Betty is all about appearances, and we the audience are like Francine — we know the truth behind them. She's about to go into a breakdown worse than the polka dotted dress one.
Apropos of nothing…
…but the name of Sally's teacher is Suzanne Farrell, the very same name as the world-famous ballerina. AND the same dance teacher under whom Elisabeth Moss studied as a child at the American School of Ballet in New York. Coincidence?
The nurse gives Betty the needle and says, "think of the beauty parlor." Betty got the abortion information from Francine at the beauty parlor. Also, beauty parlors historically were sometimes fronts for abortions, or places you could make contacts for one.
25frames, that's awesome!
Betty's heavy sigh before she goes to her crying baby says it all for me. She's in a fog and simply going through the motions, never following her heart, never really having a sense of self. She does what society expects her to do but with no real passion or joy.
I missed being in the office for most of this episode. The series is always at its best when the story is focused at work.
@ 82 CPT_Doom. I seriously see this show as being so close to real life, it can be very, very unnerving.
I am glad your mother survived that horrible incident–how cruel people can be in the name of their beliefs.
@ 25framesaminute…that is a great observation and ties in nicely with Sally's "addling" reference (which she learned in Miss Farrell's class) later on.
Betty tried "addling" that baby when she went horseback riding. It didn't take. Of course, Don & Sally don't know that.