Jane worked in a New Age health food shop in California, until her mother committed suicide. Then she gave up her job and moved to Bali - paid for, incidentally, by a large inheritance.

Once here (this is all true, I swear), the starry eyed Jane joined the network of Californians who have long gravitated to this island, met a nice Balinese boy, got herself heavy with bairn, and decided to marry her handsome native. "Bali’s so fertile," she told her friends, "so ... abundant!"

Typically, Jane decided on a home birth - at home in the rice fields, 45 minutes from the nearest hospital. "I want to do it the natural way," she told her doughy eyed chums. "Like we did way back when."

All nearly went according to plan. Jane amassed around her a select group whom she believed had the right qualities for - what she termed - the "birthing process". There was Liberty, who had five children by three different men; Rose, who was in charge of the Tarot cards, and Sunshine, who organised the Blessingway.

This, for those who are not au fait with the wacky lifestyle of the right-on earth mother, is a Navaho Indian ceremony in which women (men not allowed) sit around in a circle singing:

"Hey yana ho yana hey yana ho, The mother is our earth and that’s all we want to know."

And so everything was prepared. The chosen cards lay on a table near Jane’s bed, and a necklace of sage and silver lay loosely around her torso. Someone had even bought a book entitled How To Enjoy Home Birth.

A month passed and nothing happened.
"Surely the baby should be coming soon," said Jane, looking a little anxious.
"A baby who waits is a child who knows patience," said Rose, studying her charts. "If he stays put for another week, he will be an Aries!"
A week passed.
"I’m worried," said Jane, adjusting her nose ring. "The baby was due three weeks ago." And then she started feeling a bit funny, and the contractions began.

"Push!" said Sunshine, holding open the book.

"Push!" said Rose, with stars in her eyes.Nothing happened. The contractions continued, but the baby refused to budge.

Six hours passed, then 12, then 24. The contractions were now back-to-back and Jane was unable to speak, mainly because she was screaming too hard.
"Try standing," said Sunshine, urging Jane on. Jane stood.
"Try squatting," said Rose, so Jane squatted. Nothing seemed to work.

"Try getting down on all fours in this kiddy’s paddling pool filled with water," said Liberty, to the astonishment of all concerned. Nevertheless, Jane did as she was bid, determined to have a natural baby.

"Suck her nipples," someone ordered Ketut, Jane’s Balinese husband. "It should stimulate the process." Ketut joined his Californian wife in the bathing pool and duly did as he was told.

"Isn’t it beautiful," cooed the women as they gazed upon this scene of impending nativity. Jane’s labour had now lasted 30 hours, and still there was no sign of the baby.

Finally, Ketut’s father arrived. "What is happening here?" he asked his son.
"The baby doesn’t want to come out," said Ketut.

"Why didn’t you call me?" he asked. "You know I have delivered all our family, including you." Ketut told him it was because no other men were allowed to be involved in the "birthing process". "I think we should go to the hospital," said the old man, staring at the women. They were making pigeon noises now, clucking like battery hens.
"These white women are all crazy."
And so they went, five of them crammed into a small jeep. Later that day, Jane’s baby was born by Cesarean section, without which he probably would have died, and Jane called him Destiny, which she thought was a very natural sounding name.

By Nigel Simmonds

[top]
[welcome page]

copyright © 1999 Bali Echo. All rights Reserved
site design by : Access Bali Online