COME On, Baby,” a sensational reality TV show debuted as a Mother’s Day tribute, has been widely praised for its honesty and authenticity and criticized as frightening, gory and tasteless.

The show follows couples as they go through the anxiety of childbirth and joy of holding a newborn in their arms. It debuted on May 9 on Shenzhen Satellite TV and airs every Friday.

It shows painful labor by screaming, writhing mothers, and the gory moment of birth when the newborn — bloody and slimy with umbilical cord still attached — is lifted from the mother, wiped off, covered and given to her.

The shooting is discreet, there’s no shot of the infant’s emerging head, but it’s still very graphic and intimate.

In the first episode, three births are shown — two of them natural and one Caesarian. Viewers watched the incision made in the belly, with very little blood. It features three ordinary mothers-to-be, Gu Yanqing, Chen Xuejun and He Jiamin, all of whom gave permission for filming, as did their families. It is not known whether they were paid.

“Every day, we witness the arrival of new life. We watch as each family’s life experiences a moment of great change,” says the introduction. “What you’re watching is a major, real-life show.”

“The mother uses her own flesh in exchange for the baby, which is the most realistic aspect and also the most powerful side,” says producer Yi Hua of China’s first childbirth reality TV show.

“This reality genre is an experiment in exploring humanity under extreme conditions,” says Shi Jianing, a veteran TV producer from Shanghai Media Group, “It’s very likely to challenge traditional values and ways of thinking — about hiding essential, gritty live moments and presenting a pleasing surface — and it is likely to flourish.”

The show also depicts men kissing their wives’ bellies and women in labor pain biting the hospital bedding. Men are usually not allowed in delivery rooms in China and most don’t want to be there.

There are around 13 million births in China each year, around 40,000 a day, and that number is expected to rise to around 16 million now that more couples are allowed to have more than one child.

Every year around 200,000 babies are born in Shanghai.

Around half the births nationwide are performed by caesarean section. Many young urban women are also squeamish and afraid of pain, though most of their mothers gave birth naturally and had more than one child.

Many viewers were shocked and some women commenting online said they were frightened. Some swore that though they appreciated their own mothers, they would never become pregnant.

The show is set in the Shanghai Red House Obstetrics & Gynecology Hospital.

It documents the experience of mothers, fathers, families and medical staff. It is filmed by 64 remotely controlled cameras in labor wards, delivery rooms and lounges.

Though babies are born all the time, the actual birthing process is rather mysterious to people who have not lived through it.

Shooting began in March and will run through the end of July. It commemorates the hospital’s 130th anniversary this year.

“Before the show was aired, we watched a preview and gave our opinions,” says Wang Jue, a hospital official. She says they debated scenes depicting newborns covered in blood and amniotic fluid. “But finally, we decided to retain it because that’s what really happens. It’s not a device to shock and attract an audience but to demonstrate that it’s not easy being a mother.”

The cameras are so unobtrusive that staff and mothers forget about them, she says. “The labor ward sounds mysterious, but it’s filled with touching stories. The show also explores humanity, the couple and family relationships. It will improve mutual understanding between patients and medical staff.”

Some viewers raised the issue of privacy, though the three mothers filmed all gave their permission.

Lily Sun, a 30-year-old engineer with a 2-year-old daughter, says women in childbirth “look very awful, exhausted and disheveled. It’s a moment without dignity and I wouldn’t share that moment, even with my husband.”

Producer Yi says birthing cannot be polished and “our shooting plans remain unchanged.” The production team is mostly female.

He Jiamin, one of the mothers in the first episode, told reporters she had no regrets about participating.

“The show is very novel and fresh to most Chinese people and I one day plan to share video of the delivery with my child — it’s an important moment in our lives,” she said.

Caroline Zhu, a Shanghai pregnant accountant who is to give birth in two months, is a healthy candidate for natural childbirth, but before the show she was undecided about vaginal delivery or caesarean section.

“I learned from the show that natural birth is much better for mother and child,” Zhu says. “Watching the real-life experience gave me confidence. Natural birth is a human instinct and most mothers can do it.”

Some viewers say there is gratuitous emphasis on the mother’s pain, however, retired schoolteacher Xu Ziyan says women have done it successfully for hundreds of thousands of years and individual women have had many babies.

“In China giving birth is thought to be a grave, high-risk process even compared with the jaws of death. But in most cases, that’s simply not true,” she says.

“Come On, Baby” is inspired by the British reality show “One Born Every Minute” that follows staff and patients on a busy maternity ward.

“It is just stunning! Mothers are so great! Watching it, I couldn’t control my tears!” wrote one Internet user.

The show’s official Weibo account has already garnered some 52,000 followers.

The idea of showing a mother’s birth pain even extended to Jiangxi Province TV host Jin Fei, who screamed during a Mother’s Day activity in which he was shocked with electrodes to give him an appreciation of what women go through.

“Come On, Baby” is not the first Chinese reality TV show controversial for blood and graphic content.

In 2007, several sensational TV reality shows featured plastic surgery before-and-after make-overs, with live footage of the bloody operations that involved grinding chin and cheek bones to reshape the face, reshaping noses and cutting double-eyelids — none of it medically necessary. They were banned by authorities because they were so shocking and bloody, and also gave incentive to people to go under the scalpel for the sake of vanity.