Right Mothering

Having been pregnant with my daughter and then given birth to her in a French-speaking country, I had the tremendous blessing of a haptonomic preparation for the birth. I credit haptonomy with the speed of my daughter’s birth (2 hours of noticeable labor), her high alertness at the birth (and ever since), and her continuing acute awareness of the space around her. She came into the world with confidence and surety. While I delivered the placenta, she and my husband looked deeply into eachother’s eyes, and the intensity of her gaze has never diminished. And she has always known her physical limitations and she never bumps into other people or objects (which you know, if you spend any time around small children, is rare). Needless to say, we are repeating this preparation with the child currently in my womb.

What is this haptonomy that brings about such self-awareness? Well, this is not so easy to answer. Haptonomy was founded by Frans Veldman and is now taught exclusively at the institute that he founded in the south of France. The website of this institute presents some introductory material, but, be forewarned, it elucidates little. If you understand spoken French, then I highly recommend the following three videos (1, 2, 3), the three parts of a special broadcast on French television. Even if you don’t understand what the lecturer, Catherine Dolto, says, if you are patient, you will see some amazing photographs and videos of haptonomy in practice.

The word haptonomy derives from the Greek and means the science of touch. As a prenatal accompaniment, it aims to develop an affective relationship between the father and the baby and to strengthen the mother-father-baby triad. Through touching the mother and talking to the baby, the father communicates with the baby, and the baby responds.

Now, this is not the normal putting-the-hands-on-the-belly in which most parents engage. First, the mother must be present in her base. Second, the father must extend beyond his own flesh and feel beyond the point of contact when touching the mother. Third, the father must know where and how to touch. A philosophy of human relating supports each haptonomic motion.

In more practical terms, every day we make time as a family to practice haptonomy with the baby. I recline on our bed. My husband straddles my legs and places his hands on my belly. He then greets the baby, identifies himself, and then calls the baby to one side of the womb and then to the other. And the baby moves. My husband then rocks me and the baby with movements that are too complex to describe. Then with a simple concluding motion, he completely realigns my spine and creates more space in the womb for the baby.

Haptonomy has made me fervently pro-life. Who could kill a being capable of responding so meaningfully to our overtures? I also now view ultrasounds as an aggressive intrusion into the life of my unborn child.

Perhaps you wonder where to find a practionner of haptonomy. As far as I know, nowhere. We traveled to French-speaking Canada to refresh our knowledge.  I write about it here in the hopes of creating a demand.