Birthing Traditions of Mā'ohi Women in the 18th and 19th centuries

"No where are children brought into this world with less pain or danger; the women submit to little or no confinement within doors, but rise and go about as usual."

LMS Missionary James Wilson, 1799

in Ancient Tahitian Society, Oliver (1974)

Some of the earliest ethnographic writings about women in Tahiti and childbirth specifically, can be found in the journals of early explorers who were attempting to make sense of the people they encountered in the Pacific. While I fully acknowledge the limitations in understanding both the language and customs of these interactions, these snapshots provide some early clues to the conceptualization of birth and the ways Mā'ohi approached labor and delivery.

Captain Bligh (1789) describes a scenario where a woman in labor is supported by an attendant who essentially massages the belly in a downward motion at times of contractions to help coax the baby out. When Bligh inquired if there was any other help available for the woman, the response by Ideeah, Tynah's wife who escorted them to the event was no, because in this posture, the child will be safe.

In another scenario described by an LMS missionary named Crook (1821), a woman in labor was attended to by a woman in back of her, holding her up, and other women at each of her feet, supporting her during contractions, sometimes being changed out by other family members including the husband or brother etc., connoting this was a family affair. Perhaps to the observer it was unclear what relationship each of these attendants had to the woman? They would assist in cleaning her, Mā'ohi being known for their cleanliness, keeping her cool and massaging her.

In recording the rites and rituals of royal births in the past according to Henry (1928), the protocols were much more pronounced, with prayers and chants being offered, structures built for the event of the mother to birth the child. After the birth, the child was bathed in oils, and after a resting period, the umbilical cord was taken to the family marae to be buried, being a representation of the child to be kept among other sacred relics there. Many additional rituals were necessary to ensure the safety and longevity of the child.

Oliver (1974), the author of the compiled text where these accounts are synthesized, noted many additional features of accompanying ceremonies, but what I was fascinated by, were the myriad ways women were held, supported, even cleaned by others throughout the process. Although there was a very real danger to giving birth, woman going through labor and delivery were commented on as being able to recover quickly, even that it looked to be "relatively painless."

Having gone through labor and delivery and myself four times, I can't imagine anyone describing this process to me as relatively painless. But did I give birth in shaded, cool areas outdoors where there was lots of fresh air available? No. Was I totally surrounded by the women (and other loved ones) in my life, massaging me; not really, not for all of my children, but yes to my loving partner who has always been there for me. The typical labor and delivery experience for a woman in the U.S. is to be bombarded by medical staff that you will likely never see again after you give birth, with cords attached to you, in as sterile an environment as they can make it. While I am grateful to modern medicine, there is something to be said here of the customary practices of Mā'ohi, who relied on their family and community to support both them and the baby after the baby was delivered. The adage "it takes a community," couldn't be more relevant here.