“Everything I Really Need To Know About Birth I Learned From My Cat”
by Clarice Winkler

I suppose, like many parents of unwed teenage girls, I was in denial. How could this have happened to my baby? After all, she was too young. I had forgotten the night, a few weeks earlier when she had snuck out the back door late one night, returning the next day with a sly little smile. But it became harder and harder to ignore the enlarging tummy, the prominent nipples. Had they always been that way and I just hadn’t noticed? Then there was the unmistakable feeling of movement when I stoked her furry belly. Molly was PREGNANT!

Molly’s prenatal care consisted of eating extra protein, plenty of catnaps and frequent stroking. Over the next couple of weeks her activity slowed. She wasn’t as interested in watching the birds out the window as she once was.

She was very restless the morning she went into labor. She paced back and forth across the house, jumping on my lap for a short time and then pacing again. She would cry softly once in a while. I just watched. I prepared her birth space carefully. A box covered with a soft thick towel would serve as her bed. I closed the curtains so the light wouldn’t disturb her. I offered her a bowl of cool water to sip.

She seemed content to just lie on my lap. I softly stoked her body and noticed the ripple of a contraction from the top of her belly moving downward. She gently pushed her lower legs against my thigh with each contraction.

The doorbell rang, startling both of us, breaking our concentration. Molly jumped and ran under my bed to hide. I quickly explained to my friend and her son what was happening and they left. Molly came out, jumped into the box, and her bag of water broke. She seemed comforted by my presence, so I stayed with her. Her breathing was faster now, and shallower. She made little cries as she pushed her hind legs out. The first kitten appeared. It was in the sac. I waited for her to break it. But she just lay there, gently panting. She made no move toward the kitten. This isn’t what I expected. I thought she would stimulate the kitten to breathe. But I resisted the urge to intervene. I continued to just watch. She gave another push and the placenta was expelled. She then went to the kitten, opened the sac with her teeth, licked the kitten to stimulate breathing, and drew it toward her nipple to nurse. She then set about eating her placenta. This process was repeated three more time for each kitten, although, she was a placenta behind a couple of times. Finally, all four babies were peacefully nursing. Molly looked at me, blinked her eyes, and then closed them for a little nap. A job well done!

Molly, although young, proved herself a good mother. She was always attentive to her babies’ needs. They grew healthy and strong.

As Molly’s midwife I learned:

1. Mother Knows Best. Leave her undisturbed. She knows what she’s doing.
2. Provide for her comfort and privacy. A soft towel, a cool sip of water, a reassuring stroke on her head. A quiet, safe, dark space.
3. Suspend expectations. She may not give birth as you think she should. Remember, she knows what she’s doing.
4. Be very careful when considering intervening. “Above all, do no harm.”
5. Birth is very simple and, at the same time very complex. It is one of the true mysteries of life. We don’t have all the answers.
6. And finally, women deserve the same respect and care as a mother cat.

Molly was a good teacher.

 

Birth Dance

     No 1-2-3-4 box step for me and MY baby
          Ours is a wild tango
          A wild Tangle
               Free and loose and totally absorbing

No Lawrence Welk for us
For us it’s centuries of women’s voices, acapella, and Ubaka Hill
Echoing a rhythm as mighty and irresistible as the ebb and flow of
     the ocean

     Do not DARE to pit your cold and shiny metronome
               against our ferocious beat

My ball gown is not a blue checked “Johnny”
Maybe flowing silk or soft pure cotton
But more likely Air or Water

          You won’t find me passive for the Climax of our dance
                    but crouched in Life’s deepest Plie

     Ours is a wonderfully complex rite-of-passage
          A unique and intricate dance of effort and of joy

©Kip Kozlowski 2003