ABSTRACT: The author describes her horrifying experience
of birth in a traditional hospital setting. In addition to being
terrifying, it severely hindered her bonding with her daughter. For
her second birth she chose a midwife to assist and the setting of her home
in which to deliver. Artemis, the midwife, assisted in making all
aspects of this second birth experience—from conception through the postnatal
years—a growthful and empowering experience for the mother ("the most fulfilling
event of my entire life"). In fully embracing the complete spectrum
of the experience of giving birth, assisted by her midwife, the author
felt guided to a new maturity and to full flower as a woman. Artemis’s
guidance also had loving, bonding, and maturing long-term effects on the
other members of the family, and even on friends who attended the birth.
The author contrasts the isolation and trauma of modern technologized birthing
ways with the community and bonding of tribal ways. Midwifery helps
us to remember how these birth processes were intended by Nature, allowing
us to trust in our body’s own innate wisdom and to reclaim our birthrights
as human beings on this Earth. The article’s purpose is to support
midwifery in its time under legal fire as well as to urge women to look
more closely at all their options for birthing.
A "Normal" Birth
My birth experience was terrifying! Never having been pregnant
before, I was unaware and unprepared for such a trauma. Two weeks
past my due date by my doctor’s calculations, not mine, and without ever
going into labor, I was informed during an office visit that I was dilated
two centimeters and could go to the hospital. Upon my arrival I was
unexpectedly rushed to have three x-rays taken of my pelvic area, x-rays
which I later found out could not only be severely damaging to the fetus
but also are an inaccurate method of measuring the pelvis’s capacity to
expand during birth. No mention of any possible birthing problems
had ever been brought to my attention before this day. In fact, during
several office visits, I had asked about my pelvic measurements and had
been ignored.
As I waited on the gurney for my doctor to appear, I was surprised
by the seemingly unwarranted concern displayed by several members of the
hospital staff. I was still not in labor and vaguely remember mentally
questioning the procedures that were taking place. After looking
over my x-rays, my doctor informed me that I would need a cesarean section
because my pelvis was too small and would cause my baby’s neck to break
on the way out. I felt deeply disappointed and surprised, but it
never occurred to me to vocally question his judgment.
I was then wheeled to another room for an extremely painful catheter
insertion and intravenous hook-up by a gruff nurse who raved about the
physical advantages of C-sections. I was then left to wait; still
I was not in labor. The anesthesiologist appeared, then inserted
a needle in my spine for an epidural block nine times before giving up
to failure. I was so frightened by the time they wheeled me into
the operating room I realized I was going into shock, unnoticed by the
doctors who stood only a few feet from me. I pleaded for my husband
but was refused. The anesthesia mask placed over my face was blowing
gas into my eye. As I tried to correct this problem by moving my
head, someone yelled at me, "Lie still!" And as I gradually lost
consciousness, I genuinely feared for my life. When the tubes were
removed from my throat immediately after the surgery, I briefly came to
and gasped, "I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!"
When I finally awoke, I was told I had a baby girl. Then I
vomited for the next twenty-four hours as a result of the anesthesia.
My incision was so painful I could barely move. I watched with envy
the other mothers slowly walking up and down the hall. My baby daughter,
Sarah Fairlight, was brought in to me at some point. I awkwardly
nursed her, then they took her away again. I fearfully commented
to her pediatrician that I was having trouble bonding with my baby, but
he brushed off my concern. During this time Sarah’s father rarely
visited, and my heart yearned for some sort of familiar support of any
degree. My hair became a knotted mess, and my spirits sank.
A red line grew from the intravenous needle in my wrist to the middle of
my forearm—a sign of blood poisoning. When I brought this to a nurse’s
attention she disregarded it. I became emotionally distraught, dehydrated,
and feverish. They refused to let me see my baby for another twenty-four
hours after my temperature had returned to normal.
All this trauma happened within a short thirty-six-hour hospital
visit, after which my husband dropped the baby and me off at home and hastily
returned to work. I was alone . . . with a tiny infant I knew nothing
about caring for . . . never having been effectively mothered myself .
. . advised to stay in bed for two weeks to heal from major surgery . .
. with little support from family or friends . . . and emotionally, mentally,
and physically abused by my husband. I fell apart! Throughout
this entire event it never once occurred to me that I had the right to
voice my needs or the power to choose a more positive experience.
The subsequent eleven years have been an unending struggle to bridge
some undetermined gap that formed between my daughter, Sarah, and myself
due partially to our lack of quality bonding at birth. Although I
love her dearly, in some ways she is still a stranger to me . . . I never
seemed to have birthed her. Sadly enough, at times I plainly find
it difficult to be there emotionally for her, though in other ways I am
quite a dedicated mother.
These years were also marked by an almost obsessive longing to truly
experience labor and birth, and by the persistent feeling that some important
piece of my personal puzzle was missing. As I look back, it becomes
clear that when the full gamut of the birth process is not experienced
physically, mentally, and spiritually, a void seems to be created and the
fullness of womanhood and motherhood is left undiscovered.
Let me state here that the American Medical Association has its place
in our society, and in an emergency their technology is indeed helpful.
Nevertheless, my first birth experience was one of deep sadness, anger,
and frustration at the hands of an irresponsible member of this group.
My prenatal care by this well-known Bay-Area obstetrician consisted
of a series of rushed-through appointments in which my hopes, fears, and
questions went unnoticed. I never felt any emotional support in this
vulnerable hormonal time, and I was patronized continually. My experience
in this doctor’s care may not have been the norm by which he practiced,
but if I were to see him again I would remind him that all his patients
are entitled to his concern for their emotional health, as well as that
of their families. After all, helping to bring lives into this world
is not merely factory work; the women who seek birthing assistance have
lives way beyond the doctor’s realm and are affected by the quality of
care they receive during these vulnerable times for many years afterwards.
With the Aid of Artemis
My second birth, with a midwife, could not have been more different
from my first experience. It is because of this that I feel so compelled
to write this article and to dedicate it in emphatic support of the midwives
in this country who—through an incredible sense of purpose and despite
seemingly insurmountable odds—find the courage to quietly and invisibly
aid in the spiritual awakening of humanity.
For the purposes of this article, and with great love and respect,
I wish to follow Jeannine Parvati Baker’s (1985) lead in giving my beloved
midwife the name of Artemis. Artemis, of course, is the name for
the Greek goddess, daughter of the immortal Leto and twin to Apollo.
As legend has it, two midwives in the form of doves attended the twins’
birth. They assisted Leto in delivering Artemis. Artemis then,
acting as a newborn midwife, received her brother, Apollo.
The divine twins, Artemis and Apollo, would grow to become patrons
of healing in their own unique ways—Artemis, as the wild herbalist and
universal midwife, comforting and healing all birthing mothers, human and
animal alike; Apollo, as the father of the archetypal medical doctor of
our times, Asclepius. Apollo approaching healing through dissecting
and analysis and Artemis using ecstatic dance, plant familiars, and language—in
this way, Art and Science have as their source the same mother. (Baker,
1985, p. xv)
My midwife, Artemis, personifies the character of the great goddess
after which Jeannine has named her. And it is in her Wise Woman Way
to remain invisible and unidentified here as also in her work, so she may
help to remind others of their own personal powers, standing quietly by
until she is needed.
Her care encourages conscious conception and the responsibility of
mothers as vessels of life to become totally aware in body, mind, and spirit
of their undertaking. She also encourages the support of the mother’s
family as an important aspect of the mother’s total well-being. Artemis
is not only a midwife with extraordinary intuitiveness; she is also a mistress
of ceremonies, the link between the Ancient Ways and the New-Age manner
of walking through life awake and with purpose.
So it was that my pregnancy and birth experience with Artemis as
my midwife was the most fulfilling event of my entire life. Under
her care I was never without support. Each prenatal visit to her
cozy office was a joyous ceremony of the life within me. During these
visits she gently checked my progress and up to four apprenticing midwives
soothed and attended me. My hopes, fears, and questions were all
meticulously heard; and information was freely given to me from an array
of different viewpoints. Each stage of my pregnancy was explained
in detail; and I was always given the opportunity to hear my baby’s heartbeat,
which aided in the early bonding between us. Sarah and my present
husband, Douglas, were welcomed to participate during these visits, and
they also were showered with love and support. We were encouraged
to check out books from the well-stocked office library. Sometimes
our visits would last hours, as we talked to Artemis and other expectant
families, checking each other’s progress and discussing pertinent issues.
Artemis periodically gave birthing workshops in her office, which encouraged
an exchange of basic information and true-life experiences among pre- and
postnatal families.
Because I had had a previous C-section, special care was taken by
Artemis and her husband, an innovative OB/GYN, to explain all possible
risks to the baby and to myself in attempting a vaginal birth. The
term used for this experience is V/BAC, vaginal birth after cesarean.
My case history was thoroughly reviewed; and in Artemis’s opinion—using
her extensive knowledge and experience of the pelvis’s ability to expand
during birth and her expertise with V/BACs in general—the risks were minimal.
She found my pelvic structure to be excellent for birthing babies.
In fact, the physical reason for my earlier C-section was quite unclear.
So, given this information, various birth options, and an anatomy
briefing, I was able to choose the option that felt right for me and my
unborn child. Artemis demonstrated exercises and other methods to
prepare my body for the delivery. I had no intention of repeating
the horror of my previous birth experience. In fact, I gladly accepted
the risks that were explained to me, even those of the worst scenario,
in order to open myself to the full spectrum of emotional, physical, and
spiritual experiences a mother encounters in natural vaginal childbirth.
This was essential to my growth! I deeply appreciate Artemis’s personal
crusade of offering women, especially those of us with previous C-sections,
the opportunity to birth with dignity, awareness, and purpose in our own
homes.
Just about three weeks before my due date, Artemis facilitated a
ceremony at my home called a Blessingway. This ancient Navajo rite
of passage is held in the mother’s honor, bringing her blessings from the
Earth and from the Spiritworld. This ceremony helps unite the visions
and dreams of the family and community for the new soul’s passage onto
the Earthplane and serves to purify the home where the birth will take
place.
For the ultimate intimate experience, I chose to birth this baby
in a warm and sacred room in the comfort of my home. I was determined
to revel in all the glory and labor-consciousness that this special time
represented for me. My husband, my daughter, my magical midwife,
her trusted assistant, and three close friends all gathered to witness
the birth.
Artemis’s skill in guiding our close-knit group through this event
was phenomenal. She brought her many emotional, physical, and spiritual
tools to bear, and her skill at reading moods and offering guidance at
difficult times was truly a gift. Her calm knowingness eased my fretting
husband. She focused my daughter’s energy more productively.
And, since this was my first labor, I was overjoyed to have her mothering
presence by my side. To me, Artemis personifies the ideal of Mother;
she brought to me and to this birthing the unconditional love only a mother
has for her daughter.
And so this labor, for me, was all that I had hoped it would be.
I had the unwavering support of those around me. I was allowed to
labor for and thus earn that sacred prize at the end. During the
contractions in the last stage, all gathered around me, encouraging me
to breathe my way through them. Artemis bathed and soothed me, changing
my position as needed to allow the Earth’s gravity to help my baby’s descent.
While my favorite music carried my mind to faraway places, Sarah, in her
untiring dedication, gave me her hand to hold and squeeze at crucial moments.
As my new child emerged from my womb, hardly anyone noticed as Artemis
quickly removed the umbilical cord from around my baby’s neck. My
new daughter, Eizah Morgaine, was gently placed on my stomach. We
all listened to her first little sounds, our tears of joy flowing freely
at the sight of her beauty. Within minutes Artemis encouraged me
to nurse Eizah, and I completely and utterly fell in love with this tiny
human being.
The pieces of my puzzle had all been found, creating the whole wonderful
picture of pregnancy, labor, and birth. Now having completed this
sacred and magical cycle, I feel I am a more productive woman and a more
effective mother. I have vastly more patience, and my priority is
now my children’s self-esteem and positive growth.
Affecting Everyone It Touched
I believe when a family witnesses the pain of birth, as well as the
joy, a deep respect is created for each other, for the life-giving process,
for the role of motherhood, and for the special bond of love between intimate
partners. Thus, through Eizah’s birth I was able to give Sarah, at
least spiritually, the birth she deserved. Because of her faithful
support, we were empowered to reclaim some of the bonding we missed eleven
years earlier.
As for my husband, Doug had been a confirmed free-spirited traveler
and photographer for most of his life. At the time of Eizah’s conception,
six years after we married, he was just becoming comfortable with true
intimacy and monogamy. I had been praying to get pregnant and have
a child since we met, knowing that this was my path. Since Doug had
never fathered a child in all his forty-eight years and believed himself
to be sterile, his reaction to my pregnancy was pure terrified frenzy.
Issues of stability, financial responsibility, fear of restricted travel
options, and fatherhood created resistance and shock for the first three
days. With or without his support, however, I had to go through with
this pregnancy. Happily, Doug’s love for me overcame his fears.
He admired and honored my dedication to my path and chose to delve into
the experience right by my side.
After meeting Artemis and her wonderful assistants during our prenatal
visits, Doug began to relax and feel the joy grow within him. He
is not one to involve himself in ceremony, but by witnessing Artemis’s
reverence for ritual and traditions he was able to bond more fully with
his unborn child and to explore deeper levels of love with Sarah and me.
Our family blossomed.
During labor Doug was a mess! This accomplished photographer couldn’t
have used a camera to save his life. At times he actively helped
me in birthing, but most of the time he spent watching over me with misty
eyes. Putting Eizah into his arms for the first time after her birth
created an emotional high, way beyond words.
In fact, this event has deepened our union a hundredfold. For
while our relationship, off and on, had been extremely close and full of
personal issues and growth, in the last three years since Eizah’s birth
we have become even more intensely committed and deeply spiritual.
We communicate very well together and are, without a doubt, best friends,
working out our conflicts as they arise and supporting each other’s struggles.
Neither of us has ever experienced such a beautifully bonded love as this
one.
In addition, now that he is the father of a very aware and active
toddler, Doug has realized many facets of his personality that were previously
undiscovered. He thoroughly loves being a father, having a family,
and keeping us all well and happy. He has been with Eizah almost
constantly since her birth, playing and laughing and cherishing each moment.
As for Eizah, she has a real and definite sense of herself.
She is a well-adjusted, self-assured little girl who is extremely aware
of her boundaries. She has brought a much-needed healing to this
family. It is amazing how much positive change this little soul has
created.
As for the witnesses gathered at the birth, they experienced such
an emotional high that deep ethereal love blanketed the entire group, creating
a bond which now, years afterward, is still felt.
The afterglow of Eizah’s birth, which still lingers brightly within
me, was enhanced by Artemis’s untiring postnatal visits and check-in calls
to our home. During birth, my peritoneum had ripped quite significantly.
Artemis offered me two alternatives: stitching the tear, which could tear
again with the next birth; or gently healing the tear with mending herbs,
which could help to retain some of the elasticity of the tissues.
I chose the herbal method and have been happy with the results. Not
only did Artemis monitor our health after the birth, but she also arranged
for meals to be brought to our home for two weeks.
Because of this priceless personal experience I can testify that
the service Artemis offers has no time limits. She is always there
for us with her vast knowledge of baby care and healing ways. In
her dedication to her community she promotes healthy citizens through healthy
births and healthy bondings. She creates an-all important support
system within the birthing families she touches, and through networking
she contributes to the community’s awareness and well-being in a wide variety
of ways.
Also because of these experiences, I am now a firm believer in support
systems. If a strong support system is not created before or during
the pregnancy, the mother may find herself quite alone with a new baby.
She may need to work at surrounding herself with supportive people who
will love her unconditionally and respect her for who and what she is,
people who will validate her feelings and genuinely care for her and her
family. If her partner is of little or no support to her, she will
need to imagine herself with the challenge of a new infant in addition
to her present family dynamics, personal issues, and daily routine.
At this sensitive time, as the hormones flow, her sources of irritation
and emotional upsets are magnified; thus seeking counseling or other methods
of self-help could be greatly beneficial to her and her family. The
new child, too, deserves and prospers from emotionally cleaner parents.
Having learned from experience that living in community and having
a healthy support system is truly essential to the expectant mother, I
feel sadness, anger, and frustration that our society is so lacking in
this awareness. Rather than encouraging the enriching tribal ways
of giving and receiving in community, our society appears to practice and
emphasize the ways of technology and isolation.
By contrast, during less-medicalized times and in many indigenous
cultures, women gathered around the laboring woman to reassure her with
their knowing and healing ways. These women loved the mother-to-be
and knew birth well, as they themselves had several times walked through
this underworld labyrinth between life and death, risking their very survival
to bring into the world a beautiful new soul (Stein, 1990). In parenting,
the responsibilities of caring for the children were shared, as all children
were precious to the tribal community. Because the whole tribe was
involved in the expectant mother’s life and witnessed the birth of the
baby, the bonding to this new tribe member was so strong all members regarded
the baby as their own. Women often suckled each other’s children.
In sickness the ill were cared for and healed by others in many different
ways, and their share of the work divided among the healthy. The
community members were able to feel that their lives were a part of the
flow of all life, wanted and needed by everyone. All had a purpose,
all were One.
Reclaiming Our Birth Rights
In the years since Eizah’s birth, I have had the opportunity to observe
the subtle and dramatic differences between my two birth experiences, the
resulting degrees of bonding, and their effects on my two children and
our family as a whole. I can testify that the intense bonding created
by my intimate prenatal care and home birth has inspired in me a deeper
understanding of my role as a mother, has helped me to become more mature
and responsible, and has had enormous positive effects on how I relate
to Sarah and Eizah: I respect them as spiritual beings on their own paths.
And in order to achieve this awareness I had to be motivated by a strong
desire to do what I felt was best for me, accepting all risks involved
and employing a competent and dedicated lay-midwife with a clear vision
of her purpose. Now I have a firm sense of my own courage and a beautiful
warm memory to draw peace and strength from for the rest of my life.
Now, I am not suggesting all obstetricians be replaced by midwives.
I wish only for doctors to become more aware of the impact they can have
on an expectant family before and after the birth and to realize that in
the birthing process it is the mother who delivers her baby, as women have
been doing successfully for eons; not the doctors, not the machines, not
the midwives. I wish for the mother to become more aware of her birthing
options, of the strength of her own personal power, and of the dignity
and beauty of the birthing process left unmechanized. Ultimately
the responsibility lies with the mother. I urge her to keep her eyes
and ears alert and, above all, listen most intently to her inner wisdom.
There she will know how to get what she needs from her birthing experience.
Witnessing the natural events in each other’s lives brings us closer to
one another and to life itself.
When all is said and done, I can only speak for myself and my own
experiences with midwifery. But I have also seen and felt many a
family’s love for their midwife, appreciating her deeply for helping them
through their birthing and healing processes. Midwifery helps us
to remember how these processes were intended by Nature, allowing us to
trust in our body’s own innate wisdom and to reclaim our birthrights as
human beings on this Earth.
Coming To Full Flower, In Nature
All too long ago it was the magical life-giving abilities of the woman
that our ancestors revered. Women were considered the "insurance"
of the tribe. They were the mothers and the healers. All Nature
was given a feminine character honoring the miraculous cycle of renewed
life. Our ancestors lived and died celebrating life’s natural processes
and rites of passage through rituals and ceremonies. Birth was one
of the most important of these celebrations. But the significance
of women’s role in society and of the life-giving process itself over the
centuries became misconstrued. And now in this space and time it
is imperative to remember our heritage and to remind ourselves that the
balance found in Nature is the same balance we must also adhere to.
For with Nature we also are One.
A midwife’s life work is helping to reclaim this balance by guiding
women and their families through the joyous, sometimes frightening, and
deeply intimate birth experience. Some women who have chosen Artemis
to aid in their births have never had a birth under natural circumstances,
much less a normal vaginal birth.
I had been deprived of both of these experiences and felt cheated
for many years because of it.
So, in my experience, Artemis’s life is a legacy of guiding women
to full flower, as only a woman can understand. And out of a deep
conviction I urge that we support women like her, and midwifery as a whole,
against the judgments of narrow and self-righteous minds. The purpose
of this article is not only to support midwifery in its time under legal
fire, but also to urge women to look more closely at all their options.
Pregnancy and birth happens but few times in the lives of most women.
It is not a sickness and therefore does not belong exclusively in doctors’
offices and hospitals, except only by the expressed choice of the woman.
We need to preserve our rights to birth as we choose, with whom we choose,
and where we choose, without political repercussions. We need to
choose alternatives to birth healthier families.1
Blessed Be!
Note
1. Some suggested reading for someone interested in learning more
about alternative birthing and midwifery are the following:
Artemis Speaks: V/BAC Stories and Natural Childbirth Information
by Nan Koehler (13140 Frati Lane, Sebastopol, CA 95472: Nan Ullrike
Koehler Publisher, 1985).
Birthing Normally: A Personal Growth Approach to Childbirth by
Gayle Peterson (1749 Vine, Berkeley, CA: Shadow and Light, 1981).
Hygieia: A Woman’s Herbal by Jeannine Parvati Baker (P.O. Box
398, Monroe, UT 84754: Freestone Publishing Collective, 1978).
Prenatal Yoga and Natural Birth by Jeannine Parvati Baker (P.O.
Box 398, Monroe, UT 84754: Freestone Publishing Collective, 1974).
Silent Knife: Caesarean Prevention and Vaginal Birth After Caesarean
by Nancy Wainer Cohen and Lois J. Estner (670 Amherst Road, South Hadley,
MA 01075: Bergin and Garvey Publishers, Inc., 1983).
Spiritual Midwifery by Ina May Gaskin (Summertown, TN: The Book
Publishing Company, 1977).
Wise Woman Herbal for the Childbearing Years by Susan S. Weed
(P.O. Box 64, Woodstock, NY 12498: Ash Tree Publishing, 1986).
References
Baker, Jeannine Parvati. (1985). Preface: Artemis and Apollo: V/BAC. In
N. U. Koehler, Artemis Speaks: V/BAC Stories and Natural Childbirth
Information. Sebastopol, CA: Nan Ullrike Koehler Publisher.
Stein, Diane. (1990). Casting the Circle. Freedom, CA: The Crossing
Press.
Copyright © 1996 by Mary Beth Grabowski
* This article
was originally published in Primal
Renaissance: The Journal of Primal Psychology, Vol. 2, No. 1, Spring
1996, pp. 45-53. Subsequently, it was published in The Rose Garden
magazine.
Biographical Note
MARY BETH GRABOWSKI is now a mother of three daughters. Raven
Jezannah was born in 1994 into the loving arms of her father, Doug, who
subsequently cut the umbilical cord. Mary Beth has an A.S. degree
in Park Management and has studied herbalism, natural healing, and family
ritual for the last ten years. She gives Childbirth Awareness classes
and helps to raise awareness of midwifery and doula services where she
lives in Maine. She can be contacted at 172 Lander Road, Parkman,
ME 04443; or by calling (207) 277-3598.