It is the 7thseason of Call the Midwife, and I make time to watch it. This weeks episode had me in tears. Death is hard, but I am glad that the current series has reflections on faith. When it first aired I wondered how close it was to the book that it is based on.
In the fall of 2012 I wrote this blog post:
If you liked the new program, Call the Midwife, airing on PBS, you will like the memoir written by Jennifer Worth. A few years ago I came across The Midwife: A Memoir of Birth, Joy and Hard Times. Jennifer was a midwife for the east end of London in the 1950s. The TV program is based on her book.
The PBS program is accurate in presenting episodes described in the book. I did go back to check the validity of the premature birth story. According to the memoir the baby was born at 28 weeks gestation after the mother had taken a bad fall. Despite being very sick and weak the mother refused to let the medical staff take the baby to the hospital.
She kept the baby on her chest, skin to skin. She expressed colostrum from her breasts, and every half hour she used a little glass tube to drip the colostrum into the tiny baby’s mouth. By instinct she was keeping the baby warm and nourished.
This was a 1950s example of kangaroo care motivated by maternal love and instinct.
Jennifer Worth recorded that the baby survived without impairment.
The program left out spiritual messages in the book. As a young midwife, Ms. Worth was frightened by the situations that she was thrust into. She wrote how the prayers of the nuns gave her calmness. Ms. Worth gave insight into the emotions she had while preparing to attend the premature birth.
She wrote: The knowledge that sister Julienne would be praying for us had an extraordinary effect. All the tension and anxiety left me, and I felt calm and confident. I had learned to respect the power of prayer. What change had come over the headstrong young girl who, only a year earlier, had found the whole idea of prayer to be a joke?
Prayer was part of my home birth experiences. At times the husband prayed. Occasionally I prayed. Although I am not a poet I wrote some lines to remember the scene at a birth I attended, assisting a physician.
Labor pains came gently
through the night.
Morning light streamed
on her rocking chair.
Her labor intensified.
She walked, clutched my arm,
And listened for
were intuitive. She labored
with position changes
and firm massage.
She knelt down
and asked me to pray.
No pain medication.
She asked me to pray.
I prayed as she moaned
And released her body
To surging waves of pain
Her body pushed.
A circle of crown,
head and shoulders,
a baby girl was born
in the afternoon glow.
Childbirth is a time to lean into God.
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