There is one experience that unites women from all
cultures in all of history:
dying from childbirth.
Miscarriages and stillbirths were even more common.
All this death made Japanese people
in the Heian Period [794 - 1185] ask, “Why?”
And they came up with an answer:
“Ghosts.”
Giving birth is hard. You get to the hospital,
you’re worried about the future of your bebe,
you’re panicking, and you have a million questions for the nurse like,
what room did my wife just give birth in,
she’s gonna kill me? It’s a lot of stress.
And it was even more stressful in the Heian Period.
Families did look forward to new children,
but as the date drew closer, their anxiety skyrocketed.
The Japanese had this idea that evil spirits
hung around places at the border between life and death.
So in places like battlefields and birthing rooms,
the realm of the living and the realm of the supernatural kinda merge,
leading to maximum danger.
You and I go to movie theaters for fun,
evil spirits go to delivery rooms.
The really bad ones attack the mother or her child,
or even kill them, while the less bad ones
stand there not speaking up, feeling ashamed.
People also believed in these beings called hungry ghosts,
some of which have weird diets.
They gather around women giving birth so
they could slurp up the birthing blood,
the bebe, or even the mother if she died.
So not only did women have to push a little
hikikomori out their bellies, they had to
keep away a million ghosts too.
How did people do this?
[bebes]
Before doing anything related to bebes,
people had to pick the location,
the place to give birth in.
Oh, so like the living room or something?
No, don’t be daft. Giving birth was seen as
impure because of the dirty things that
came out of the mother: birthing blood, bodily fluids, profanities.
Giving birth at home would defile the home.
So it was important to choose some other mfer’s home to violate.
Usually a high ranking noble
had his wife or daughter give birth
at the home of a minor noble or a minor relative.
It was probably an honor for the host.
“Thank you for the amniotic fluid, my lady.”
Now we’re talking about noble families here
in this video okay. There’s not much info on
how commoners gave birth, probably in a shed
somewhere full of hungry ghosts and poverty.
People had a belief that there were lucky and unlucky directions,
and they changed depending on the date.
So to pick a location for the birth, a family had
to go to a court sorcerer.
These guys would take out a calendar,
run through a few quantum physics formulas,
then say something like,
“Ah yes, she should give birth in the northeast corner of
a house located in the northeastern part of town,
and point her vejaina to the west just to be safe.”
Yep, the mother had to face a
lucky direction too while giving birth.
After deciding on the house, they prepared a birthing space in a room
separated from the rest of the home.
Men couldn’t step inside because women icky.
Doctors cleansed the birthing
area by sticking magical talismans in the room.
Mothers gave birth in a squatting power pose, or on her knees.
Female servants held her up.
If the little bebe was stubborn, they would tie the mother to a rope
hung from the ceiling, for as long as necessary.
Gravity beats bebes every time.
Now we still had the ghost problem,
and it was a big problem.
We can see how much people lost their s--t over evil spirits
by reading the diary of Fujiwara no Michinaga.
It feels bad to read his diary, but historians love violating privacy.
He was the head of the Fujiwara clan,
the clan that famously married their daughters
into the Imperial Family, allowing them
control over the Heian court for 200 years.
His daughter Shōshi was pregnant-- very pregnant--with the emperor’s kid.
This bebe was more important than yours.
If the bebe came out a boy,
his cute lil ass had a high chance of warming the Imperial throne one day.
Having a future emperor for a grandchild
would have given Michinaga massive clout.
So for his daughter’s delivery,
he threw a s--t ton of money at it
like he was the US government and his daughter’s vejaina
was the military industrial complex.
He invited all these monks and spellcasters.
There were Buddhist monks from famous temples,
monks who lived in the mountains,
court sorcerers, and a bunch of miko, or shrine maidens.
Lady Shōshi gave birth behind curtains and screens.
Now when I give birth, I usually want things to be quiet.
Lady Shōshi’s birth was not.
The sound of prayers drowned out her cries
asking why she signed up for this.
Monks chanted and prayed and beat
their wooden fish all through the night.
It was all very loud. People broke clay dishes to scare off evil spirits.
If the monks noticed a really bad spirit,
they would shout prayers at it at the top of their lungs.
A gen-ocide befell the evil spirits of the capital that day.
Evil spirit descendants still talk about it today in somber tones.
The shrine maidens had a fun role.
Each miko had a monk who prayed in front of her.
If he spied an evil spirit lurking about,
trying to get a taste of aristocratic bebe,
the tastiest type of bebe,
he would force the spirit into the miko.
Her body housed the spirit, either serving as a
prison for it, or allowing it to communicate.
The monk would hear its story through the miko,
maybe find out what its problem was and calm it down.
Smoke and the smell of incense filled the room.
Someone had poppy seeds ready for burning
to calm down Lady Shōshi in case she needed it,
or in case she was up for some fun.
Now when you give birth, you probably just want a
spouse there and maybe a doctor and a few nurses,
and some opium.
But in Heian Japan, childbirth wasn’t private.
Not only did they have a team of ghostbusters, they had an audience.
Yep, people came to witness the birth.
Luckily for his daughter, the audience could only
stand outside the covered birthing space.
Unluckily for his daughter, the audience consisted of
her friends and family, and the elites of the capital.
Michinaga was a powerful man, and he had powerful friends
who all looked forward to watching his daughter
push a human out her cooch.
The lives of the top 1% really are different.
More than 40 people crowded into the tiny room,
watching the monks chant and yell.
It wasn’t often that men could see women back then, and now.
So men in the crowd sometimes
peeked through the curtains of the birthing space,
to catch a glimpse of the women inside,
hoping to see a few hot sensual sleeves moving about
like naughty drapery. Sleeve fetish was a real thing.
Michinaga himself was yelling orders.
It was like a show or a concert.
Birthapalooza was the place to be. The crowd was packed so close people
couldn’t move without committing a seks offense.
People who came late couldn’t even get in,
they had to stay outside waiting for updates like losers.
The show even had emotional moments.
When it came time for Lady Shōshi to push,
she had someone start shaving her head.
People were like,
“What? This is no time to make a statement.”
But no, there was a reason.
The pushing phase of a delivery was the most dangerous phase.
When things looked bad,
a monk would shave the mother’s head
and make her a nun. This way, if she died,
she would have died a devout Buddhist
and boosted her chances in the afterlife.
So when they shaved Lady Shōshi’s head,
the people watching knew things were bad and wept…
and then they fell to the floor in joy and prayer,
because the bebe came out healthy.
It was a boy. Michinaga came immediately
to the bebe’s side to see his grandson.
He was delighted,
and the team of exorcists was delighted,
because they knew Michinaga was about to
shove mad money and gifts up their bums.
Nothing like financial anal after a hard day’s work.
Lady Shōshi wanted the bebe, but what about
women who might not, like prostitutes?
They had crazy ways to deal with pregnancies
in the Edo Period, click here to see what they did.
We have some new people on Patreon this week:
Wu-Tang the Conqueror I love your music,
AV Flox, Terrell Stephens, and Alex Cox.
Thanks so much you guys.
Alright I love you, and spread the knowledge!