I started this by wondering, are there such things as midhusbands?
Research reveals that Bugs would be called a midwife no matter what his gender, according to medicine.net.
That can’t be right. I say let’s us just jettison the gender-, marital-, and species-restrictions altogether. Let’s just call anybody assisting, in an important birthing role, a MidBeing.
So now the medicine.net definition, reworked, is: A MidBeing is one who is trained to assist during birth. Many such MidBeings also provide pre- and post-natal care and education. MidBeings may deliver in the home, in a special birthing center or clinic, or in a hospital.
This was the problem. Bugs was (and is – well, actually that’s a bit of a spoiler, but never mind, I’m happy you know in advance that Bugs got back in the house, because one moment of suspense about whether he and I became separated longer than the four hours it took would be too awful, I’ll spare you that pain, I went through it and that’s enough for all of us) strictly an indoor cat.
Yes, yes, I’ve already heard, I already know with a reasonable degree of certainty, all the arguments against that indoor-cat decision. I hold firm to it anyway. So let’s just keep the grief down to a dull roar, OK?
More on the prenatal state of play. You know, from earlier posts, about how Bugs the MidBeing was busy assisting, caring for, and educating me prenatally. In so many ways. Take, as one example, my testimony from an earlier post: “I loved him with every inch of my being.”
Well, I like a version of Maturana and Varela and the rest (see “Knowing What We Don’t Know”). A pastiche might go something like this:
(1) Our own certainty is not proof of truth.
(2) We live *not* in the world according to moi, but in a world we bring forth with others.
(3) “Others” necessarily means “those who are different from us.”
(4) If we cannot come to understand and accept those others – if our own certainty-is-the-only-truth thwarts acceptance of others-in-their-otherness – then
(5) As my boys M&V say, “we are living indifference and negation under a pretense of love.”
There you have it. It, that is, being the world according to moi pre-Bugs. Personal and lonely certainty leading to indifference (or worse) and negation.
Oh I had a few angels around me, a few “others” whose particular different truth was of great and compelling and warming importance for me. But those were exceptions proving the rule. The overarching, certain, revealed truth according to moi was: Indifference (or worse) and negation, under a pretense of love.
Mind you, I was pregnant with a different state of being.
But my lying-in was not an easy one. For this to be a viable birth, I needed the help of a trained professional MidBeing.
Bugs. By grace and by golly, there he was.