BBC RAdio 4: THOUGHT FOR THE DAY - 24 November 2021

Good morning,

On Monday, I attended my latest midwife appointment and was struck again by the care I received. I met both an experienced midwife and a student learning the ropes and was moved almost to tears by their kindness. I’ve found the first few months of this, my second pregnancy, brutal emotionally and physically.

But in that 20-minute appointment, I felt like I mattered – not just as an expectant mother but also as a human being.

While I was there, I thought about the marches all over the UK on Sunday. Thousands of people joined Midwives, doulas, doctors and their families to make a plea for improved working conditions and better funding for maternity care.  

The March with Midwives movement began in October after a survey by the Royal College of Midwives found that more than half of them are thinking about leaving the NHS.

There aren’t enough of them as it is and those that remain in the system say they’re stretched and unable to give labouring mothers the care and tenderness they deserve.

This crisis isn’t just about the midwives. It’s about all mothers and families. As the celebrated American midwife Ina May Gaskin once wrote: “The way a culture treats women in birth is a good indicator of how well women and their contributions to society are valued and honoured.”

The Midwives who are pointing to the injustice of the current system remind me of Shiphrah and Puah. They’re the two Hebrew midwives in the Old Testament who refused the command from the King of Egypt to kill all male Jewish babies at birth.

The strength and courage of these biblical midwives prevented a genocide. But they also demonstrated a deep tenderness for the women they cared for, and their new babies.

When it came to it, they chose to give life rather than take it away.

So often the Christian tradition emphasises the stereotypically male attributes of God – of strength, victory in battle, and power. But there is also power to be felt in caring for another in the midst of labour pains; the light touch on the small of a back; the grip of a hand to help ease the agony of a contraction.

The God I believe in is like this. A God described in Psalm 71 as like a midwife: “he who took me from my mother’s womb”.

Like life itself, labour can be agonising. There are moments of unimaginable pain. But it can also at times be profoundly and eye-wateringly beautiful; and it’s good to have someone to hold our hand through it all.