In studying for my honors degree in History, our module on Early Modern Europe focused on some wonderful primary sources concerning childbirth and firsthand accounts from a legal, midwifery, and parental perspective:

1. A 1734 extract from a Dutch midwife's memoirs Mother and Child Were Saved: The Memoirs (1693-1740) by Frisian midwife Catherina Schrader, translated and annotated by Hilary Marland (Amsterdam, 1984).

Twins! "1709 on 27 September fetched to Antic, wife of the brewer, Aate Schoyeles. By The Lord's decree, delivered her two daughters. The first came forth sitting. Broke the water of the other. He presented with his [back]. I had to look for the feet. Got them with great difficulty, though delivered it with its feet. Still all well, by God's blessing, for mother and children."

Breach Birth! "1711 on 28 April to Mayke, the wife of master Watse, a boat builder. The child came [presented] with his back sideways. She had a heavy flooding. With very great difficulty I pulled the child with its bottom to the birth canal. It was hard for her and myself. And had almost given it up, but the Lord gave deliverance. And had to be born doubled up with his bottom [presenting]. However the child and the mother lived. A healthy childbed."

2. A 1522 German ordinance regulating midwifery, where midwives must now swear an oath and gain a license in order to practice.

"No woman should be hurried to deliver. She should wait and hold out until the appropriate time."

"They should not take on any flighty, young apprentices, as it so often happens that they marry during the course of their training and that all sorts of injuries result from their inexperience. They should rather take on apprentices well advanced in years and preferably living alone, from whom one expects more diligence than from younger ones"

Nuremberg Staatsarchiv, Amts und Standbücher, nr. 100, fol. 101‐105, translated by Merry Wiesner‐Hanks, (Germany, 1522),

3. A 1622 letter from an English mother to her unborn child. Unfortunately, Elizabeth died nine days after her daughter was born.

"I write not to the world, but to mine own childe... will more profit by a few weake instructions comming from a dead mother... than by fane better from much more learned."

"Mistake me not, nor giue your selfe leaue to take too much liberty with saying, My mother was too strict. No, I am not, for I giue you leaue to follow modest fashions, but not to be a beginner of fashions: nor would I haue you follow it till it bee generallt so that in not doing as others doe, you might appeare more singular than wise: but in one word, this is all I desire, that you will not set your heart on such fooleries, and you shall see that this modest carriage will win you reputation and laue with the wise and vertuous sort."

Elizabeth Joscelin, The mother’s legacy to her unborn childe, (England, 1622).

Best wishes to you and your family!

European folklore is filled with legends (narratives told to be believed) and other expressions of belief about concerns associated with childbirth and the subsequent recovery of mother and infant. The most common fear was that supernatural beings would abduct either the infant (especially if it was a boy) or the mother in her birthing bed.

In the case of the infant, there was a concern that the fairies would make one of their own to resemble the baby, which they would take, leaving the “changeling” in its place. The parents would understand this had happened later when the infant failed to thrive. Supernatural beings other than fairies were also often regarded as a threat, but we will use that term as an umbrella for all the malicious possibilities.

There was also a belief that fairies might abduct the new mother, leaving a log, again magically imbued to look like the mother, who would then seem to fail and die. The log would then be buried, while the fairies kept the mother as a captive.

To avoid these concerns, people would seal the house where the birth was to take place: doors and windows were locked, and iron (fairies detest iron!) would be placed over all openings. As quickly as the mother and infant were able, both would be taken to church for the baptism of the infant and for readmission of the mother in what was called a “churching” – a blessing of sorts (and mothers were often issued a “churching certificate” not unlike one issued to the baby at birth).

These ceremonies placed a “lock” over the mother and child so they could not be as easily abducted. Since fairy captivity was a ubiquitous concern, there was no guarantee that these ceremonies would yield certain results – but it was better than nothing. And when all else fails, place an iron cross – two nails fastened together should suffice! – above the crib.

The practice of sealing the house indirectly caused the tradition that associated with the strok with the arrival of a baby. An excerpt from my Introduction to Folklore which I used in previous decades when teaching an introductory course on the subject:

Parents wanting to avoid the topic of conception and childbirth relied on the fact that the only opening to the house was the chimney. Coincidentally, European peasants had observed that storks nested on the little-used gallows or “Catherine” wheel in towns. These looked like wagon wheels positioned horizontally on tall poles, and storks found them a safe place to nest. The birds were regarded as good luck, so it was not uncommon for people to construct a similar wheel on top of their roofs to attract storks. When children asked about the origin of the infant, it was easy to suggest that it had arrived by way of the chimney and that the stork had accomplished this deed.

The extraordinary nature of childbirth required sanctification of mother and infant, and until this was accomplished, both needed special magical attention. The family would hang an axe or knife over the doorway and above the crib because the offending supernatural beings would avoid both iron and sharp objects. The fire was kept burning day and night, and the baby’s bath water needed to be thrown to the east or south, since the other two directions would bring negative results.

Laurel Thatcher Ulrich has written two wonderful books about women in early New England, and both books have quite a lot to say about childbirth and the practices and beliefs surrounding it. They are Good Wives: Image and Reality in the Lives of Women in Northern New England 1650-1750 (1980) and A Midwife's Tale: The Life of Martha Ballard, Based on Her Diary, 1785-1812 (1991). Both draw very heavily on primary sources from the time period.

u/hannahstohelit wrote a great answer about Jewish women in medieval Europe in response to a similar question I posed a little while ago that addresses this.

One addition to the many excellent suggestions in this thread: The Gentleman's Daughter: Women's Lives in Georgian England by Amanda Vickery. She includes a number of first-hand accounts and sources on this very topic.

P.S. hope all goes smoothly with your own little one! You might want to postpone reading some of the historic accounts until after baby has arrived? YMMV of course, but speaking from experience, I preferred to keep that kind of thing at arms length while pregnant!

John Adams, the 2nd US president, was married to Abigail Adams. We have well over 1000 letters preserved written between them.

They were educated, close, and had the time and money to talk to send letters about virtually everything. Politics, their children, sickness, fears, cute lovey things, business, etc.

Abigail Adams is primarily famous for writing a letter to John Adams while he was at the Continental Congress. She directed in this letter:

"Remember the ladies, and be more generous and favorable to them than your ancestors. Do not put such unlimited power into the hands of the Husbands. Remember all Men would be tyrants if they could. If particular care and attention is not paid to the Ladies we are determined to foment a Rebellion, and will not hold ourselves bound by any Laws in which we have no voice, or Representation."

All this to say, she was an advanced woman and had the confidence of her husband. They had 5 children, and they talked about a wide range of subjects. She also wrote letters to friends, family, and everyone else in her life.

Due to word limit, I am replying excerpts of the most relevant letters below recounting her last pregnancy. She became pregnant during the American revolutionary war, her 6th pregnancy, and John Adams left to go to war and congressional duty shortly after leaving her alone in the house. She was 33 years old.

Never posted here before but I wrote a research paper in undergrad about Anne Bradstreet and femininity in puritan New England. All of her poems are brilliant and wonderful but there is one that this post reminded me of!

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46450/before-the-birth-of-one-of-her-children

All things within this fading world hath end,
Adversity doth still our joyes attend; No ties so strong, no friends so dear and sweet,
But with death’s parting blow is sure to meet.
The sentence past is most irrevocable,
A common thing, yet oh inevitable. How soon, my Dear, death may my steps attend,
How soon’t may be thy Lot to lose thy friend,
We are both ignorant, yet love bids me
These farewell lines to recommend to thee,
That when that knot’s untied that made us one,
I may seem thine, who in effect am none.
And if I see not half my dayes that’s due, What nature would, God grant to yours and you;
The many faults that well you know I have
Let be interr’d in my oblivious grave;
If any worth or virtue were in me,
Let that live freshly in thy memory
And when thou feel’st no grief, as I no harms,
Yet love thy dead, who long lay in thine arms. And when thy loss shall be repaid with gains
Look to my little babes, my dear remains.
And if thou love thyself, or loved’st me, These o protect from step Dames injury. And if chance to thine eyes shall bring this verse, With some sad sighs honour my absent Herse;
And kiss this paper for thy loves dear sake, Who with salt tears this last Farewel did take.

You might find Lost: Miscarriage in Nineteenth-Century America by Shannon Withycombe to be an interesting read.

Using women’s personal writings as well as doctors’ publications from the 1800’s, it paints quite a contrast to the modern perception of miscarriage, in no small part because of the survival rates of both mother and child…in a time when many women had limited access to contraception and experienced adult life as essentially an unending series of pregnancies.

While I was working on the MM on Roe v. Wade, I came across the book Revolutionary Conceptions: Women, Fertility and Family Limitations in America, 1760-1820 by Susan E. Klepp. She includes a number of letters - from the women themselves as well as their husbands - and second-hand reports about how the women felt about pregnancy, giving birth, and motherhood. It's a fascinating read.