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.
