Try to sleep, Abigail. Good on ya for trying to make sense of it. As you and we suspected, facts do not matter to those people. By what hateful inhumanity is it ok to shoot pregnant women coming over the wall that doesn’t work so long as we don’t allow pregnancies to medically terminate on this side of the wall? Might as well hitch a ride on Hale Bopp in our new tennis shoes cuz this is insanity./tarra
In Talmudic thought, Rabbi Yom Tov Lippman Heller, known as Tosafot Yom Tov, in his commentary on this passage in the Mishnah, explains that the fetus is not considered a nefesh until it has egressed into the air of the world and, therefore, one is permitted to destroy it to save the mother’s life. Similar reasoning is found in Rashi’s commentary on the talmudic discussion of this mishnaic passage, where Rashi states that as long as the child has not come out into the world, it is not called a living being, i.e., nefesh. Once the head of the child has come out, the child may not be harmed because it is considered as fully born, and one life may not be taken to save another. [One is required to try to save both, unlike in Catholic theological law, where only the newborn may be saved. Grrr]
This is primarily concerned with Brigid/St. Brigid, in Ireland, ridding primarily female religious (not just nuns) of inconvenient results of sin. Much more interesting to read.
The Goddess Brigid had three aspects: smith, bard, and healer—and as the foster mother of Jesus. The last may have something to do with the alleged journey of Jesus, Joseph, and Mary to Glastonbury. Must have made a side trip across the Irish Sea, of which I’ve never read.
I had two abortions in the ‘80s. I regret neither of them. They weren’t traumatic: discovering I was pregnant from a failure of birth control—that was traumatic. The first was arranged by Planned Parenthood, the second through my medical insurance.
I invoked the Mother aspect of the Goddess to be with me through both. Neither Pagan, Wiccan, Heathen, nor Polytheistic theology says anything negative about abortion.
Had little pain or discomfort after the first, just at the end of the first trimester, and none to speak of after the second, caught earlier. I almost felt guilty because women around me in the recovery area were screaming for pain meds, and here I was just waiting until I could leave. Of course. It was Tylenol, which has no effect on me.
After the first, I pledged to Goddess that I’d do what I could for single mothers. After the second, I swore to Her that should I want to carry a pregnancy to term, I would do whatever it took to produce a healthy infant. Boy, did She call me on that one! I found out at 10 weeks, long before blood sugar screening is usually done, that I had gestational diabetes. I was doing by best to control blood glucose by 11 weeks. No dense carbs before noon, for a tea-drinking (my cuppa was a pint), and toast/scone/pastry, was damned difficult. Eating at Thanksgiving and Christmas that year were meticulously planned, so as not to push glucose too high.
Then there was the blood samples 2-4 times a day. Have I mentioned how much I dislike needles?
I chose chorionic villus sampling over amniocentesis, as it was done a few weeks earlier, and I wouldn’t see or feel a ginormous needle going in. I had to drink something like half a gallon of fluid and hold it until after the sampling. Ugh. I’m on the exam table, and directly above me on the ceiling is a poster . . . of water plants. Sick meanies.
Then at five months, I had to take insulin. I did find a way that produced little sensation from the injection, but if we were dining out, I’d go to the ladies’ room, and felt like I was shooting up street drugs every time!
Once “the Wiggler” was big enough, he was kind enough not to kick as hard as some I’ve heard. I couldn’t retain enough for a good volume of amniotic fluid, no matter how much I drank. This became a problem the day they tried to induce. I ripened enough, but couldn’t dilate. One last ultrasound took three hours of waiting to the point where my OB cane to harangue the radiologist. My water never broke, but I had only 8oz of amniotic fluid. I had a c-section, tied down. An assistant surgeon who said unkind things about women my size. Not allowed to hold my son until he was brought into nurse hours later.
Ultrasound techs had been telling me I was going to have a 10lb baby. Nope, 7lbs 10 oz, and his APGAR score was 9. I had indeed done all I could for a healthy baby, with all the challenges thrown at me.
Lying alone in the recovery room, rather scared—not told how long I’d be there. Once back in my room, no one told me to keep my head still, after the spinal, or lose the last (awful) meal I’d had. Which I did.
I’ve always had sleep issues, and of course I finally fall asleep and I’m awakened to nurse. Arthur was born four days after I turned 40. We’re 30 and 70 this year, both having Covid over our birthdays.
Try to sleep, Abigail. Good on ya for trying to make sense of it. As you and we suspected, facts do not matter to those people. By what hateful inhumanity is it ok to shoot pregnant women coming over the wall that doesn’t work so long as we don’t allow pregnancies to medically terminate on this side of the wall? Might as well hitch a ride on Hale Bopp in our new tennis shoes cuz this is insanity./tarra
Yeah, I just thought hey, I'll ask! Still don't understand.
Beautifully written, as ever. Perplexing! One of my (otherwise intelligent) friends is similarly smitten. Incomprehensible.
If you’re going to cherry-pick, do it right. Does magically (in essence) inducing a miscarriage sound like an abortion to you?
https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Numbers%205:11-31&version=NIV
The Test for an Unfaithful Wife
At this site, you can choose the translation you prefer.
Discusses induction of miscarriage in certain situations. It’s used as a test: there isn’t any disapproval of the loss of the fetus, just of adultery.
Miscarriage is also mentioned in Exodus 21:22-25.
https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/the-fetus-in-jewish-law/
In Talmudic thought, Rabbi Yom Tov Lippman Heller, known as Tosafot Yom Tov, in his commentary on this passage in the Mishnah, explains that the fetus is not considered a nefesh until it has egressed into the air of the world and, therefore, one is permitted to destroy it to save the mother’s life. Similar reasoning is found in Rashi’s commentary on the talmudic discussion of this mishnaic passage, where Rashi states that as long as the child has not come out into the world, it is not called a living being, i.e., nefesh. Once the head of the child has come out, the child may not be harmed because it is considered as fully born, and one life may not be taken to save another. [One is required to try to save both, unlike in Catholic theological law, where only the newborn may be saved. Grrr]
https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/the-fetus-in-jewish-law/.12040 The Sexual Shame of the Chaste: ‘Abortion Miracles’ in Early Medieval Saints’ Lives
Zubin Mistry First published: 27 October 2013
This is primarily concerned with Brigid/St. Brigid, in Ireland, ridding primarily female religious (not just nuns) of inconvenient results of sin. Much more interesting to read.
The Goddess Brigid had three aspects: smith, bard, and healer—and as the foster mother of Jesus. The last may have something to do with the alleged journey of Jesus, Joseph, and Mary to Glastonbury. Must have made a side trip across the Irish Sea, of which I’ve never read.
I had two abortions in the ‘80s. I regret neither of them. They weren’t traumatic: discovering I was pregnant from a failure of birth control—that was traumatic. The first was arranged by Planned Parenthood, the second through my medical insurance.
I invoked the Mother aspect of the Goddess to be with me through both. Neither Pagan, Wiccan, Heathen, nor Polytheistic theology says anything negative about abortion.
Had little pain or discomfort after the first, just at the end of the first trimester, and none to speak of after the second, caught earlier. I almost felt guilty because women around me in the recovery area were screaming for pain meds, and here I was just waiting until I could leave. Of course. It was Tylenol, which has no effect on me.
After the first, I pledged to Goddess that I’d do what I could for single mothers. After the second, I swore to Her that should I want to carry a pregnancy to term, I would do whatever it took to produce a healthy infant. Boy, did She call me on that one! I found out at 10 weeks, long before blood sugar screening is usually done, that I had gestational diabetes. I was doing by best to control blood glucose by 11 weeks. No dense carbs before noon, for a tea-drinking (my cuppa was a pint), and toast/scone/pastry, was damned difficult. Eating at Thanksgiving and Christmas that year were meticulously planned, so as not to push glucose too high.
Then there was the blood samples 2-4 times a day. Have I mentioned how much I dislike needles?
I chose chorionic villus sampling over amniocentesis, as it was done a few weeks earlier, and I wouldn’t see or feel a ginormous needle going in. I had to drink something like half a gallon of fluid and hold it until after the sampling. Ugh. I’m on the exam table, and directly above me on the ceiling is a poster . . . of water plants. Sick meanies.
Then at five months, I had to take insulin. I did find a way that produced little sensation from the injection, but if we were dining out, I’d go to the ladies’ room, and felt like I was shooting up street drugs every time!
Once “the Wiggler” was big enough, he was kind enough not to kick as hard as some I’ve heard. I couldn’t retain enough for a good volume of amniotic fluid, no matter how much I drank. This became a problem the day they tried to induce. I ripened enough, but couldn’t dilate. One last ultrasound took three hours of waiting to the point where my OB cane to harangue the radiologist. My water never broke, but I had only 8oz of amniotic fluid. I had a c-section, tied down. An assistant surgeon who said unkind things about women my size. Not allowed to hold my son until he was brought into nurse hours later.
Ultrasound techs had been telling me I was going to have a 10lb baby. Nope, 7lbs 10 oz, and his APGAR score was 9. I had indeed done all I could for a healthy baby, with all the challenges thrown at me.
Lying alone in the recovery room, rather scared—not told how long I’d be there. Once back in my room, no one told me to keep my head still, after the spinal, or lose the last (awful) meal I’d had. Which I did.
I’ve always had sleep issues, and of course I finally fall asleep and I’m awakened to nurse. Arthur was born four days after I turned 40. We’re 30 and 70 this year, both having Covid over our birthdays.