The Wisdom to Be Invisible

By: Judy Ribner, DNP, CNM

Birth is an extraordinary paradox. A woman is profoundly active, and at the same time, profoundly surrendered. As the mother prepares to give birth, I glove up to the sounds of the baby making its way into the world, my plastic gloves reaching to my elbows as I enter the warm water with a mirror and light, eagerly waiting.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice an older woman sweeping the adjacent kitchen. She is minding her own business, almost deliberately oblivious to the enormity of what is unfolding in the living room. More guttural sounds. We are pushing.

The older lady continues with her housekeeping. I wonder who she is. 

First the head emerges, then the baby, who we swiftly place into the loving arms of his mother. We step back as a rush of love flows through the birth pool.

Labor is a time when boundaries soften. It is intensely private. The woman cleaning nearby respectfully stays out of the way. Now she is mopping, still only in the kitchen.

And then our client calls to her: “Shvigger, come. Come see the new baby.”

She is inviting her mother-in-law to the birth pool.

The woman cleaning nearby was her mother-in-law.

She approaches and proudly looks at her new grandchild. With tears of delight and wonder, she gazes at the ten-minute-old infant. Then she locks eyes with her daughter-in-law with a look of deep respect and appreciation.

In heavily accented English, she says: “You are so strong.”

Then, looking in our direction, she adds: “And those beautiful girls helped you.”

She did not call us midwives. She did not professionalize our relationship with the family. She was not distracted by our carefully prepared safety equipment or the clinical details of our work.

She saw us as sisters, women who had gently cared for her daughter-in-law through a vulnerable and powerful moment. And she called us beautiful.

I blushed.

My sleeves were soaked. My clothes were stained. I was without makeup, sweating in a room intentionally warmed for the newborn. We shyly smiled.

Yet we were beautiful.

Because kindness is beautiful.

Birth is beautiful.

We were guardians of normal birth, supporting a fellow woman during one of the most critical experiences of her life. Beauty is in presence and compassion.

We moved from the pool to the bed. The mother-in-law disappeared, gifting her daughter-in-law privacy.

The rawness of birth did not confuse her. She saw its truth: a woman’s strength.

I found myself immensely curious about her.

She seemed to understand something intangible: when to be invisible, and when to step forward. She had heard the baby’s cries. She must have been eager to rush in, congratulate them, offer help, share in the excitement.

But she waited. Waited until she was invited. 

She had the wisdom and dignity to preserve the preciousness of her daughter-in-law’s experience.

Was community birth once the norm for her? Was she herself born at home in her country? Had she grown up surrounded by women who understood the rhythm and normalcy of physiologic birth?

Or was she simply honoring her children’s choices, even though it was unfamiliar?

I was intrigued by her calmness. Her comfort with the freedom and safety of an undisturbed labor.

The husband and wife shared a few private moments together in their bedroom.

Bringing a child into the world is sacred, involving the deepest bond between the parents, commitment, and love. And when the child arrives, it feels like a natural closing of the circle.

We sat on the couch in the other room with the mother-in-law.

“My brother is an ER doctor,” she shared. “He made me nervous about this kind of birth. But I see this is what my daughter-in-law wanted.”

I was filled with respect. She had displayed no fear nor cast any doubt. She offered only encouragement and support.

She showed up fully for her children.

We assessed the baby and reassessed the mother, then said our goodbyes.

My clothes were still stained, my sleeves still soaked from the birth pool, yet all I heard were her words: “You are so strong. And those beautiful girls helped you.” 

Judy Ribner, DNP, CNM is a doctorally prepared midwife and co-founder of Birthing Center NYC & Long Island. Her practice provides individualized maternity care and attends births across all three settings- home, birth center, and planned hospital births. She can be reached at 646-907-5515 or [email protected].