On ChildbirthRcently I have had reason to be confronted with a few cases of childbirth which say significant things to me about its origins, and the implications of that for faith and belief in an ethereal creation.
The cases involve young women, one the ex-wife of a friend, one the wife of an acquaintance, the other a member of my family. Two succeeded and the offspring grow. Well, all three offspring grow. But...
The first mother, the middle one mentioned above, died on the table. Husband broken hearted, a baby to care for, alone.
One woman was disabled for months afterwards, incapable of caring for the baby or her older sister. The husband had to step into the breach. He has recently been telling me what a torrid time it was for all concerned.
The other case involved a person of diminutive body size who, the medicos reasoned, was never going to get her big boy out of that hole. So they went caesarian. But goodness, what a trashing of her little body. She showed me her scars - yes, we are a fairly broad minded family - and they were horrendous. She now looks like a human hot cross bun. The stitching scars healed to leave her with these Cartesian coordinates on her torso that in the Y direction stretched from the bottom of her rib cage to her vulva, while the X went right across the middle of her tummy, from above one hip to above the other. They must have opened her up like a butchered beast, folding back all four flaps to release the boy into the world.
She could barely walk a year later. Still gets around like an old lady 20 years her senior. The internal damage must have been caustic.
Now, some implications this all brought forth in me.
How can women, many of whom are thoughtful, sentient brainy beings, believe this agony and repulsive barbarism was given to us by a divine creator, a heavenly loving father, a bringer of intelligent design?
This is savagery. It is exactly the kind of messiness that evolution could be expected to toss up. So be it, life is indeed messy, and we as a species are damned lucky to be surviving (but maybe for not much longer?). But it cannot be the work of any god of love, any caring father.
If this sort of mechanism for reproduction was the work of a creator being, that said one must be a true and proper bastard, a cynical harbinger of harm, pain and dastardly evil. One who is prepared to wreck the lives and bodies of young women, seemingly for his own sick enjoyment.
How can anyone seriously - especially you women who have to go through all this - believe in such nonsense? Get wise: help end your religion.