Before I married, I rarely went to the doctor.
I was a healthy young woman and my medical wellbeing was taken for
granted. All of this changed when I was awaiting our first child. I was
required to attend the clinic regularly and be examined, first monthly,
then fortnightly, and then weekly. By the time it came to the final stages
before the birth, I had two midwives standing next to me, taking a great
interest in my wellbeing.
I never felt so important in my life.
And then, after our daughter was born, the two midwives, the women who
had been my attendants, suddenly ignored me completely. They were totally
focused on the new baby, and I was suddenly of less than marginal
importance -- and I asked myself how it was that I hadn't realized that I
had never really been important for myself, and it was the baby that
counted.
Some two decades after this incident, one I recalled at all subsequent
births, I was again with this same daughter in a delivery room, only this
time it was she who was having the baby. As the spasm hit her, she gripped
my hand tightly and said, "Sorry, Mummy, if I'm hurting you."
"Don't worry," I assured her, and then added, "Twenty years ago you
hurt me much more, but you didn't say you were sorry.'
"If it's a boy, he will never say he is sorry," quipped the midwife.
It was a boy.
Every woman who has ever had a baby has stories to tell. Those I
related above are just two of my many childbirth- related experiences.
There are few experiences more precious than birth, child rearing and the
feeling of being in partnership with Hashem in a miracle of creation.
My own personal anecdotes and reminiscences were brought to the
forefront of my mind recently when I read "Expecting Miracles: Finding
Meaning and Spirtuality in Pregnancy through Judaism." In this book,
American-born Chana Weisberg, who now lives in Jerusalem, has collected
birthing and parenting stories told by a large number and variety of
mothers: older and younger, richer and poorer, Frum-from- birth and newly
religious, spiritually oriented and matter-of- fact.
One mother said: "I was twenty-one when I first became a mother. It was
exciting. I felt like I was finally starting real life."
Another said: "After you have children, you pray differently. You pray
so hard that Hashem will bring you back from the birth safely so that
you'll be able to take care of your children.'
The subjects that come up include infertility, adoption, abuse and
depression. There are interviews with midwives, including Mrs. Rachel
Chalkowski, who is universally known as `Bambi' and is certainly the
best-know midwife in Israel, and arguably the most famous midwife in the
world. Her approach in midwifery is that "the first priority should be
safety -- and together with that should be the comfort of the woman and
what she wants. But safety must come first, which is my opinion as well as
the opinion of Jewish law."
Discussing Jewish laws that concern the birth process, she says, "When
you are religious and a midwife, halocho plays a very important
role. People are mistaken when they think that halocho only plays a
role when a woman is giving birth on Shabbos. For example, to induce labor
without a really valid medical reason is something that is forbidden
according to a lot of poskim. A lot of women would like to be
induced because it's erev Pesach, or because they are under
pressure of a husband having to go abroad or their doctor has to leave.
According to most of the rabbis, it is forbidden. People don't know that
this is a halachic problem."
Working with a religious Jewish woman is not the same in many ways as
working with other women, especially when it comes to calculating her due
date. "There are many things like that that are different when you are
working with religious people."
Although she will not compromise on safety, Bambi is in favor of women
making their own decisions about how much pain they can handle. "Some
people can take emotional pain. Some people can take physical pain. How
can we compare people? How can we decide for others whether they should
take drugs in childbirth? We are not their educators. We are here to serve
them."
Bambi is the midwife whose quip regarding saying `sorry' was quoted
above.
