Hero photograph
Paulette Carrington by Mary DeWitt © Used with permission. www.marydewittpainting.com
 
Photo by Mary DeWitt ©

Protecting Mother and Children Bonds

Mary Thorne & Dionne Neale —

Mary Thorne and Dionne Neale reflect on the necessity of recognising and supporting the relationship between mothers and children.

Lately, I have been thinking a great deal about the significance of the mother and child relationship and the potential for psychological and emotional harm when it is disrupted. This is because, for the first time in my life, I am experiencing the awesome wonder of becoming a grandparent. My eldest daughter is due to have a baby in a few weeks. I am so excited and together with this excitement is much thankfulness. I am so aware of the contrast between this long anticipated, painstakingly prepared for infant and the births and early years of so many other tiny lives.

The third UN Sustainable Development Goal of good health and wellbeing for all emphasises improving outcomes for vulnerable mothers and children. When I worked with women in prison, I saw how separation from their children and fractured relationships with their own mothers were massive causes of distress. This was most evident as Christmas approached.

Dee’s Separation at Christmas

Dee, a mother of three children, spent a lengthy period in the Women’s Prison in Auckland. These are some of her words when asked about separation from her children at Christmas time.

“The wire that surrounds the inside world, the prison you live in without a choice, is nothing compared to the pain that wraps around your heart and soul due to being apart from the ones you love most. the children that grew inside you, sharing every moment with you from conception to birth and beyond.

“I cried alone on Christmas Day. It is one of the toughest times to survive. Intense emotions range from guilt to sadness and hopelessness. The hopelessness you already feel as an incarcerated mother, physically and emotionally separated from your children, deepens. We are separated by the Justice of the Law.

“In my mind I relived past Christmases, my own childhood and later Christmases with my children. The memories are as vivid as though they were yesterday. I wondered what they were doing without me on this day. It is almost too difficult to face that they will be feeling this pain too. Oh, how guilty I felt for being imprisoned, away from them. This was not their fault. Why are my children also punished by being without their Mum?

“How I hoped and prayed that one day soon I would be able to spend Christmas Day with my children. In my imagination, I allowed myself to plan how my first Christmas back with my children would be. The vision is of so much happiness.

“I had not thought that this time would be filled with shame. Has too much time passed between us? Can I mend the time that has been lost? Anxiety lingers… Can they forgive me? I am unable to rewind time. Am I expecting too much?

“Why am I so sad?”

Christmas Celebrations Can Miss the Point

Dee’s story of separation is at odds with our usual Christmas associations: tree lights and decorations, special food, lots of gifts and bubbly toasts. But all these Christmas “trimmings” disguise a truth that our society needs to hear. The nature of the Christmas story ought to be able to offer safe harbour for pain such as Dee’s. How EARTHY this story is and how confidently we can locate our own struggle in it. The context of the birth of the Messiah, the anointed one of God, is dislocation and the absence of usual networks of support and reassurance.

Birthing Needs Support

The mother is Mary. She is young and this is her first baby. She has had to remain steadfast in her faith and trust in her God to get through the bewildering circumstances of her pregnancy and the upset this must have caused in family and community circles. Her betrothed, Joseph, is kind and good but now she is in labour. Her baby is about to be born and she is a long way from her home. We can be sure that she longed for her mother and the familiar network of familial support that would have been there for her at home in Nazareth.

In ancient times a woman gave birth to her child at home, surrounded by women she knew and trusted. Certainly, her mother and women of the household would be present. Necessary preparation would have been made: warm water, cloths, oil for massaging and good things to smell to revive the birthing mother. The women worked in shifts to massage her, support her under her arms and wipe her face and body with damp cloths. Also in attendance would be experienced midwives from within the family and close community. Midwives were respected women with skill and knowledge of the birth process. They gave comfort, pain relief and encouragement during labour, assisted with the delivery and dealt with difficulties. After the birth they would supervise care of mother and baby including the wrapping of the newborn in coarsely woven strips of linen cloth — the swaddling bands.

How awful it must have been for Mary of Nazareth to be separated from her mother and this whole maternal network of wisdom and care during the vulnerability of childbirth. She had recently gone to support her cousin Elizabeth in her pregnancy, so there is no doubt that this would have been her normal expectation.

Missing the Realities of Birth

Luke’s account of the birth is two verses: “While they were there the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for him in the inn” (Lk 2:6-7).

The swaddling bands are the only remnant of the birth process that remains in this story. Maybe local women came to help her.

Unlike today, men usually played no part in childbirth so it is understandable that the evangelists do not focus on Jesus’s birth. This may contribute, however, to the fairy-story character that has grown around the nativity. It is a charming backdrop to the festivity — identification with pain and struggle is precluded.

Mother and Children Bonds Foundational

We cheerfully sing “When a Child is Born” at Christmas time. Throughout the Gospels the reign of God is explained and illustrated by ordinary natural life. Plants and animals, human activities and relationships help to show us the deep reality of God’s way. Perhaps we need to think more deeply about mothers and children — and about the need to support them being together even through difficult circumstances, because damage to this relationship creates wounds that are hard to heal.

Do you ever watch family reunification programmes on television and wonder at the profound, lifelong effect the absence of a relationship with one’s birth mother can have? Many staunch, pragmatic individuals show deep emotional distress as they await outcomes of a search to discover the story surrounding the women who gave birth to them.

I resolve, this Christmas, as I hold my new grandchild in my arms (God willing), to reflect more deeply on UN Sustainable Development Goal Number 3 — to think about the heartbreaking reality of mothers and children separated for so many reasons and about Incarnation, which encompasses all pain and struggle in every time and every place. There’s an important connection that’s hard to put your finger on exactly.


Tui Motu Magazine. Issue 233 December 2018: 4-5