Whatʼs Up with this "God as Midwife" Thing?
unpacking this metaphor i think is super duper cool and compelling
My conception of God as a midwife emerged from my interconnected experiences with birth, religious trauma, and faith deconstruction. So weʼve gotta talk about when I fell in love with BIRTH.
It was kind of a weird obsession for a 20-year-old, but what can I say? Iʼm kinda weird. I was in nursing school at the time, and Iʼd stumbled onto the speciality of nurse-midwives. Babies had always enchanted me, and women, and offering presence to others during hard times—basically, this seemed perfect for me. I started reading midwivesʼ memoirs and attending nerdy conferences and eventually I got to be IN THE ROOM when a woman gave birth. It was a home birth attending by a certified professional midwife (CPM, different from a certified nurse-midwife, CNM—both wonderful and highly skilled professionals!). I was awestruck by the magic and wonder and humanity and power of it all—a Before and After moment in my life.
Pretty soon I was ditching classes to advocate at my state capital for legal midwifery (CPMs are legally barred from practice in numerous states; at the time Missouri was one of them) and accessible midwifery (CNMs are often restricted by paternalistic physician requirements). In my obstetric rotation in nursing school I witnessed more beautiful births—and some harrowing ones. I saw clearly that sometimes birthing people were respected and honored as the “main character” in their own experience, and other times they were sidelined, even abused, with the care provider centered in their story instead. This distinction boiled down to two models of care: the midwifery model (centers birthing person, minimal intervention) and the medical model (centers provider, extensive intervention).
NOTE: I am intentionally focusing on MODELS of care, not professions. It would be a hugely unfair generalization to say that midwives always treat patients well, and obstetricians never do. Rather I am saying what is backed up by research—the midwifery MODEL of care (that is obviously associated with midwives, but can be practiced by doctors) is associated with better birth outcomes and more positive birth experiences than the medical MODEL of care (which is generally practiced by doctors, but some midwives practice it too). “Respectful maternity care” is associated with the midwifery model and is advocated by both the CDC and the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists.
The midwifery model beckoned me, resonated with me on a cellular level. I wanted it for my own future maternity care, I wanted to tell everyone I knew about it, and I wanted to learn the model myself. Fast forward, and Iʼm working as a doula in hospitals (similar vibe but different role from midwives), immersing myself in my local community of birth junkies, apprenticing alongside a home birth CPM, and working as a staff nurse at an out-of-hospital birth center alongside CNMs. In the midst of all that I had a baby. Holy shit. 28 hours of back labor, 2 and 1/2 hours of pushing, delivery over my toilet, nasty tear, perfect baby.
My amazing team of several midwives, a doula, and my husband were rock stars throughout, but it was never their journey or their triumph or their power that got the job done—it was mine.
Afterwards my husband expressed some frustration that my midwives didnʼt do more to help me when I was in pain. But my midwives did a lot. They stayed with me continuously. They whispered encouraging words. They monitored my health and my baby’s well-being. They administered IV fluids when I couldnʼt keep water down, and suggested position changes to speed up my labor. They showed me how to make my pain an ally instead of an enemy. They caught my baby when he finally came out, and placed him right on my chest. Above all, they guided me in accessing my own internal power.
It was never my midwivesʼ role to take away my pain, and for that matter, they couldnʼt. Understandable as my husbandʼs frustration was, it was based on a faulty assumption about what midwives do, what they provide. And years later, after Iʼd given birth two more times, after Iʼd deconstructed my evangelical faith, after my husband and I had been through multiple church traumas and he left the pastorate, and after many horrible things happened (both to my loved ones and to the world), I wondered if I had a faulty assumption about what God does, what God provides.
Maybe God doesnʼt have the power to take away pain either.
Maybe God is a partner, not a savior.
Maybe God champions humanity.
Maybe God bears witness.
Maybe God accompanies.
Maybe God acts in solidarity.
Maybe God isnʼt interested in rescuing us, but in supporting us as we rescue ourselves.
I listened to Austin Channing Brown differentiate between how white churches and Black churches view God: “power over” versus “power with.” As a birth worker I well knew the impact of midwivesʼ power with clients, and in that moment something clicked for me…
Maybe God is a midwife.
We all wish God could take our pain away, but so often that doesnʼt pan out and we’re left disoriented. But what if the issue isnʼt that God could intervene but doesnʼt, but that She isnʼt traditionally powerful? God the Midwife is honest about reality, making promises she can keep: “It’s going to hurt, and I wonʼt be able to stop it. But I’ll stay with you. You can do this.” A power over God quashes personal agency, but a power-together God develops our own power within.
I invite you to reimagine the Divine not as an omnipotent authority figure who can save the day, but as a midwife—someone who shows up, holds space, and offers guidance when needed, but ultimately trusts your innate capacity to bring forth new life. We think we need to be saved, but actually we need to be midwifed while we save ourselves.
This resonates for me so deeply as a midwife who has both deconstructed her faith and probably need to deconstruct my midwifery or more the system I am trapped in. Lots for me to ponder but I love it
@Halley, I love this piece so much. I've never heard anyone so clearly, beautifully, powerfully deconstruct and reconstruct (rewonder?) the role of God&dess in our pain. Your writing, in my experience, already makes you a spiritual midwife. Thank you!