You Were Never Meant to Forget: The Bastardisation of Birth – Part 1
Before the advent of hospitals, sterilized rooms, and surgical lights, birth was an act of community. It was messy, sacred, loud, instinctive—and led almost entirely by women.
Midwives were not rare or radical. They were essential. They carried the wisdom of generations in their hands—passed on through practice, stories, and presence. Most births happened at home, surrounded by the familiar: women who knew your body, your story, your strength.
There were no heart monitors or epidurals. But there was rhythm. There was breath. There were whispered prayers and strong arms. And above all, there was trust. Birth was not feared; it was honored. Women bled and screamed and held each other through it.
Women Held the Knowledge
Childbirth belonged to women. It was their domain, passed from mother to daughter, sister to sister, neighbor to neighbor. Midwives were healers, herbalists, guardians of life and death. The idea that women were too emotional or fragile to handle birth would have been laughable to them.
We birthed in circles. We screamed, we chanted, we rested between contractions in each other’s laps. There were no machines, only hands, eyes, and instinct.
Birth as a Rite, Not a Risk
In many cultures, birth was considered a rite of passage, not a medical emergency. It was raw and risky, yes—but not treated like a disease. The role of the midwife was to accompany, not control. Pain was part of the process, not a symptom to be eliminated. And women, even in agony, remembered. They remembered because they were present. Fully.
When the Hands Changed
This was before the silence. Before the steel tools. Before women were made to lie down and give their power to someone else. Before the takeover. Before forgetting became policy.
This is Part 1 of a story that must be remembered. Not because it is nostalgic, but because it is true. Because women once knew how to birth—and were never meant to forget.
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