Call the Midwife, Roe v Wade, & Women's Bodies
My almost 12-year-old son, Henry is hooked on the show Call the Midwife. My husband and I are watching the series again, and Henry is fascinated by the various storylines that so accurately depict the complexities of childbirth and womanhood.
“Are you sure this is appropriate for him to watch?” my husband asked.
I take no issue with it. There’s no nudity or sex scenes, the language is mild, and even though extremely difficult mature topics are addressed, it’s an excellent way to educate a child on the history and reality of childbirth. My son is of the age to know that pregnancy is no longer the end result of “when a man loves a woman”. He is about to begin a Growth and Human Development curriculum at school, and watching this show has been a great way to open up conversations about pregnancy and childbirth, and how the experience can vary extensively depending on certain sociological issues: religion, family dynamics, race, social status, community, culture, etc. It shocks me how much a period drama is still so accurate today. Modern medicine may have changed a lot when it comes to childbirth and birth care, but the social situations of women and pregnancy are very much the same. And as we watch the rapid regression of women’s rights happen in real time, the storylines in this show seem more poignant than ever. I am glad Henry is engaging the show so thoughtfully, and I’m thankful for how the show keeps my conversations with him going.
I woke up this morning angry. Not just about the leaked SCOTUS draft on Roe v Wade and what it will mean for women. But seeing so plainly how we got here—the widening chasm between left and right, and the irrational unfairness on both ends. I’m angry at the ongoing denial that what we are experiencing is the inevitable consequence of systemic misogyny. How so many men and women alike couldn’t stand to see a woman president. That their distaste for Hillary Clinton or the naivete around the “perfect politician” blinded the larger picture of how a Trump presidency would, and has, set us back for generations.
I don’t usually post my political/social thoughts openly on social media anymore. It’s never gotten me anywhere. I have in the past tried to engage hard topics in earnest, but nuanced dialog is no longer tolerated, and one wrong word can cost me a friendship, a mentor, a book deal, a writing opportunity, or a job. I’ve lost these things before, and I always feel a sense of misogyny as the baseline—intentional or unintentional. The inherent concept that women will always be just a little less is so built into our bones, that some days I wake up hating myself, wishing for just one day to navigate life in a man’s shoes.
This weekend was the launch party for my book Crow Funeral, a book that deals with postpartum experiences that nearly killed me. I always knew that if the book got published I would find a way to give back. I am to donating the proceeds of the event to UNICEF, and their ongoing effort to help the displaced women and children in Ukraine, but also Postpartum Support International, which promotes awareness, prevention, and treatment of mental health issues related to childbearing in every country worldwide.
Just the stress of putting on the event caused me to wake up with this incredible unexplainable back pain. I had spontaneously and unanticipatedly gotten my period. Women’s bodies are unbelievably complicated. Every day, women maneuver through unique physical, mental, emotional and social challenges of this gender. I’m glad I’m teaching this to my son—that women deserve complete autonomy of their physical and reproductive health. That we all deserve bodily autonomy—women, men, boys, girls, and all other gender expressions and orientations. It is my goal that my son will grow up to be a true empathetic good man, and not a performative woke one.
After I paid the expenses related to my book launch, the amount I have to donate to UNICEF and Postpartum Support International is abysmal, but I will still donate with a heavy, (yet hopeful) heart. If you’re feeling helpless about the news this week, or the news last week, or for all the unknowns ahead, I encourage you to donate to one of these causes, or pick an organization you think could make a difference, and offer what you can.
(Images from Call the Midwife)
Pam Ferris, far left, and Jessica Raine caring for a pregnant woman in the East End of 1950s London on the PBS show “Call the Midwife."Credit...Laurence Cendrowicz/Neal Street Productions