Jennifer J. Hill - Birthing the West: Mothers and Midwives in the Rockies and Plains

Jennifer Hill puts women in the forefront of western history and shows the equal importance of womens worlds in the settling of the West. She writes clearly, thoughtfully, and, in places, lyrically. Hill projects images wonderfully and makes her points well.

Todd L. Savitt, author of Race and Medicine in Nineteenth- and Early-Twentieth-Century America

Hills work is very important to the historiography of the northern Great Plains states. Looking through the lens of childbirth provides unique perspectives on family formation, regional professionalization, and Great Plains settler colonialism. One of the exciting elements of this book is how women create community and reproduce the state. There are good local stories here to enjoy.

Molly P. Rozum, author of Grasslands Grown: Creating Place on the U.S. Northern Plains and Canadian Prairies

Jennifer J. Hill

University of Nebraska Press | Lincoln

2022 by Jennifer J. Hill

Cover designed by Ashley Muehlbauer; cover image: Wyoma Hemry, ca 1903. Courtesy of the Wyoming State Archives.

All rights reserved

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Hill, Jennifer J., author.

Title: Birthing the West : mothers and midwives in the Rockies and Plains / Jennifer J. Hill.

Description: Lincoln : University of Nebraska Press, [2022] | Includes bibliographical references and index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2021037006

ISBN 9781496226853 (paperback)

ISBN 9781496231079 (epub)

ISBN 9781496231086 (pdf)

Subjects: LCSH : ChildbirthWest (U.S.)History. | PregnancyWest (U.S.)History. | Pregnant womenHealth and hygieneWest (U.S.)History. | MotherhoodWest (U.S.)History. | MidwivesWest (U.S.)History. | BISAC : HISTORY / United States / State & Local / Midwest ( IA , IL , IN , KS , MI , MN , MO , ND , NE , OH , SD , WI ) | SOCIAL SCIENCE / Womens Studies

Classification: LCC RG 652 . H 55 2022 | DDC 618.2dc23/eng/20211028

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021037006

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

To Ivan and Bob, who mastered the practice of caring

Map

Research and writing depend on dialogue and engagement, and Birthing the West could not have happened without the kind offerings of many. A host of unfailingly generous and intelligent souls enabled this project, making possible everything from the miles of research travel to the unending review of health department statistics.

Stacey Haugland, midwife extraordinaire, introduced me to the contemporary practice of midwifery. She had the audacity to be honest about the horrors that most women experience in delivery, even in our modern era. Her dedication to her profession and to the women she served allowed me to lift the veil of pregnancy and question its impacts on American culture, both past and present. Stacey is no longer catching babies, but her expertise reflected the lineage she so proudly embodiedthat of a practicing midwife.

Mary Murphy shepherded this exploration from its very inception. I am enduringly grateful for her exquisite mentorship. Crystal Alegria and Nancy Mahoney persevered through draft after draft, pushing for improved clarity and bolder thinking with each iteration and round of drinks. Ken Robeson offered enthusiasm and support, as did the staff at the Montana Historical Society, the State Historical Society of North Dakota, the South Dakota State Historical Society, the Wyoming State Archives, the Overholser Research Center, and the American Heritage Center at the University of Wyoming. The list of cooperating historical societies from towns and counties across the Dakotas, Wyoming, and Montana runs to more than fifty small institutions, all committed to preserving vital regional history. Humanities Montana, the American Heritage Center, and the Bureau of Land Management provided funding. Clark Whitehorn and the team at the University of Nebraska Press helped make this book a reality; I appreciate their professionalism.

I am touched by the trust that the families of Mary Kassmeier, Catherine Brodhead, and Bertha Emmert placed in me after sharing memories of their grandmothers and great-grandmothers with fondness and attention to detail. The opportunity to tell the stories of mothers and midwives long gone has been a rare honor and an unforgettable adventure.

After delivering each of my children, I swore to myself that I would never go through that again. There were times in the process of writing this book that I expressed similar sentiments. Those near and dear to me have patiently listened to my laborious explanations of the progress I made on the book, descriptions of remaining research I must do for the book, and recountings of ideas I have about the book. I value their patience and beg their continued indulgence. My oath of abstention absolutely holds true for pregnancy, but Ive already conceived another intellectual quest and am itching to start research and writing. Heres to the next one. May there always be another.

Across the northern plains the sky stretches out to the far horizon, clouds spread across a great ocean of blue, and the grasses and bugs and birds all commingle in a subtle, yet wildly alive orchestra of sounds and smells. The sweet fragrance of dirt and bruised stems mixes with a slim layer of decomposing matter, teasing the nose with gentle hints of blossoms, seed pods, and fresh cleanness. The wind rushes along in rivers as it folds back the grasses.

Modern travelers through this northern expanse often combat the vast openness by cocooning themselves inside speeding cars on the interstate highways. In fairness, the miles are longit takes hours and sometimes entire days to get across the spaces we now call Wyoming, North Dakota, South Dakota, and Montana. But for those who step outside, who get away from the double yellow lines and paved roads, who take the time to listen to the land, there is a sirens song of intrigue, of wildness, and the call of something else. This is a special place, special in part because there are still spaces nearly devoid of harmful human impact, spaces where wind and water reign. If you avoid the highly settled valleys of the eastern Dakotas, the tourist streams of the Black Hills, the industrial development of the Bakken oil fields, and the proliferating vacation homes in the approach to the Rocky Mountains, you can still findor at least imaginewhat humans in this unique part of the American West touched and saw and smelled.

Ancient people, making their homes beneath the rotating world of sky, looked up and considered the friendly comfort of Ursa Major, admired the winking beauty of Corona Borealis, and gazed skyward across the angled gaps of Cassiopeiano doubt speaking their own names for the brilliant constellations but feeling a similar sense of wonder and familiarity. They traveled ancestral lands, harvested buffalo, and dug for camas root. Nations like the Apsalooke resided year-round in the areas of eastern Montana that I experienced with the aid of forced-air heat and diesel fuel. As the U.S. military confined Native residents to parceled-out reservations, recently arrived Euro-American settlers, my great-grandparents among them, saw opportunity, adventure, and even conquest in this majestic space.