Cain and Abel probably never thanked Eve for bearing them, and most of the billions born afterwards also did not express gratitude to their female parents. In 1904, to correct the oversight, Anna Jarvis urged the adoption of an annual American holiday, the second Sunday in May. Now, 106 years later, it’s that time again. Happy Mother’s Day.
Human mothers are lucky because their gestation period averages 266 days and their newborn’s weight is usually between six and nine pounds. Pity the African elephant, whose pregnancy lasts 640 days. That’s nine months plus an additional year. Camels and giraffes carry their fetuses for more than 13 months and have to contend with the long legs besides. Dogs’ and cats’ wait-for-the-litter time is about 62 days and involves having multiple young, sometimes as many as 12.
And these mothers accomplish fertility without in vitro fertilization and the aid of an unprincipled doctor, unlike the octomom.
Since the beginning of recorded history, birthing practices have changed slowly. By the second century A.D., upper-class Roman women used midwives. Soranum wrote that an ideal midwife was robust, literate, had her wits about her, and had slender arms and fingers with short nails. Also needed, he said, were warm water, olive oil, pleasant things for the mother to smell (like melons and apples), and a birthing stool with arms and a back for her to sit on during childbirth. Poor Roman moms sat on another woman’s lap during delivery.
Not much is known about natal practices during the Dark and Middle Ages, but whipping the soon-to-be mother supposedly induced labor. If the family was wealthy, someone else could be hired to suffer the blows. A member of medieval royalty was said to have employed 20 male surrogates to ensure an easy delivery. (She was also sharing the experience of labor pain.)
Until the 15th and 16th centuries, female midwives were preferred over male medicos who were also called midwives. The choice was partly because men charged more but also because of prudery. Popular opinion was that a man should not be involved in such an intimate procedure (despite a male’s involvement nine months earlier). England’s William Harvey, discoverer of the blood’s circulatory system, was a noted obstetrician, as was Peter Chamberlin the Elder. He is credited with the invention of a claw-like wooden (or sometimes leather-covered) implement to aid in delivery: forceps. For 30 years, he and Chamberlin the Younger tried to keep the device secret from rival practitioners.
Until the 1800s, ways to help ease childbirth pain were almost nonexistent. One very early medical tract offered advice from Caesarean section delivery: Five men were needed: four to hold the patient down and one to cut open her abdomen. Some midwives and physicians had begun to make use of laudanum, a solution of opium and water. Other sedatives included various herbs, ether, and chloroform (used by Queen Victoria for her seventh delivery). Some religious fanatics protested, saying that anesthetics denied God the prayers and supplications of women giving birth.
For centuries, puerperal fever had killed many thousands of women and their babies. It was only after William Smellie and later Philip Semmelweiss and Oliver Wendell Holmes observed the commonality among fatalities: The deceased had been treated by doctors and nurses who rarely washed their hands between cases. Simple antisepsis — just soap and water — solved a deadly problem.
A 21st century mom has much to be thankful for: improved medical knowledge, well-trained obstetrical staffs, fully equipped hospitals and modern medications, plus her understanding of the necessity of maintaining good health. Even so, she might envy the female seahorse, for whom pregnancy is no problem. The little fish produces the eggs and then waits for a male to swim by. Then she pumps the tiny eggs into his pouch for fertilization. Her job is finished. He is the one with the rapidly expanding abdomen as 200 babies grow bigger and bigger before they are expelled into the sea.
Although I have forgotten much of what I learned in high school 75 years ago, I still remember Pearl Buck’s “Good Earth,” in which the main character gives birth alone — and then goes out to plant a rice field. When I had my first child 66 years ago, most urban women gave birth in hospitals and spent two weeks there “recovering.” This lying-in-state so weakened her muscles that she was ill-prepared for caring for an infant, washing zillions of cloth diapers, hanging them out to dry, ironing baby clothes, making strained vegetables, and sterilizing everything in sight (except her husband). Today’s new moms typically spend only a day or so in the hospital. Perhaps tomorrow’s will opt for a drive-through delivery.
Even though becoming a mother is a joyous occasion, it is hardly a noteworthy occasion. World population is rapidly reaching 7 billion — and each of them had a mother. Four babies are born every second, an amazing 240 a minute. In the U.S., 85 million women are mothers. More than 4.3 million babies are born annually. If even half of all female parents were to receive a card, flower, candy or a restaurant meal, how merchants would rejoice! And the economy would sag a little less.
As for me, I’ve never liked receiving Mother’s Day presents. Instead, just give me visits from my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren — anytime and often.
Louise Turnbull is a Denver native and retired teacher. She was a member of the 2005 Colorado Voices panel.