Monday, November 26, 2007

October 2, 1940

Maurice was born
during the Battle of Britain
gave birth to him in a basement
nurses helping
having walked to work
after going to the pictures

falling on the engineering works around the hospital

the babies were put in boxes
pushed into the cabinets in the wall
of the morgue

the new mothers sat together
in their nighties on the floor
incendiary bombs falling

dad took us
to the bottom of the road
‘that’s where your mother is’
as we watched the flames
all red
rise in the dark sky
across Manchester

the next day
we walked
to see the new baby
walked the road
five miles past the burning
past the rubble
past the children running in pyjamas

say welcome to the new baby
in the hospital
all by itself
in the city

I think that’s why Maurice has always been

This is just one of the many family stories of birth that I have collected over the years. My own mum told this story about her brother's birth during one of the heaviest bombing raids on Manchester during the Battle of Britain. As a child, I loved hearing this story because it told me that the people in our family are strong, resilient.

I used to love hearing that my grandfather kept his family together - wouldn't let the children be evacuated. "If we go, we all go together." I like to think that our family is stronger as a result - that my own children are stronger because of this.

But it also told me that we are profoundly impacted by the stories of our births - that we believe certain personality traits are borne out of our experience of that day. Is Maurice nervous because he was born in a bombing raid? Or is he nervous because it has been an expectation of the story that has been told over and over again?
What are your family stories of birth? What stories will you be telling your daughters and sons? Are they stories of resilience and empowerment? Are they stories of loss or victimization?

I hope that we carefully frame the stories that we tell, so the listeners will find strength in our words. We need to especially watch the particular words that we use when we talk to our daughters about birth, remembering that these epic stories will weave themselves into her thoughts as she is giving birth. I know that I saw visions of the bombs falling around the hospital as I gave birth to my own children. It didn't make me fearful, it made me strong. "Gran did it...I can do it... Gran did it...I can do it..."

- Jacquie Munro, Vancouver Doula

1 comment:

Sarahthedoula said...

Stories like these are a large part of what motivated me to become a doula.

When my grandmother (Canadian) was in labour with my father (during WWII in Britain, as she moved there to be with my British grandfather) she was locked in a room in the hospital basement alone all night, stranded up high on a bare metal table. The British nurses didn't approve of Canadian women 'taking their men'.

My grandmother laboured there all night, praying that my father wouldn't be born yet ("crossing her legs to keep him in" is what she says). The bed was so close to the ceiling and so narrow, she knew she wouldn't be able to reach around to bring him up to her if he was born there. This lasted until morning, when a new male janitor heard her cries for help and ran to get a doctor to assist her in the birth of my father...... to this day (60 years later!) my Grandmother cannot be in any room where the door is closed, as it causes her to remember that night. Knowing what a long and profound influence this event had in her life, I became determined to do everything I could to ensure woman have a positive birth story - one that 60 years later they are continuing to draw strength and courage from, rather than still being afraid of.