Taissumani, March 9

Last week I wrote about some of the taboos that traditionally regulated the lives of Inuit women during pregnancy. Equally important, perhaps even more-so, were the numerous rules that governed childbirth itself. These rules were rigorous and had to be strictly followed. Those that follow were collected by Knud Rasmussen in the Repulse Bay and Iglulik areas in the early 1920s.

When a woman felt the birth-pangs beginning, then a snow hut must be built for her if it was winter, a tent if it was summer. The house or tent was quite small and was used only for the actual birth. It was called irnivik or irnivialuk.

As long as the woman was in the irnivik, the house could not be added to or repaired, even if damaged by bad weather. Once the child was born, a larger house or tent was set up — it was called kinervik.

Women must effect their own delivery without help and they must be alone in the irnivik. Even when the birth was difficult, no-one was allowed to assist. Anyone rendering aid would become impure and subject to the same troublesome year-long taboo as the woman herself.

The obligations involved interfered so seriously with domestic duties that the community would not allow any married woman, not even the patient’s mother, to incur them. The spirits would be angered at the inability of a woman to manage by herself, or the animals would be offended if a woman aiding another in childbirth should touch a newborn infant not of her own bearing.

If a woman had difficulty in childbirth, a shaman could summon his helping spirits and by their help make matters easier, or utter a magic prayer or magic song to ease the birth.

Before the delivery, a woman must have found either a flint or a piece of white quartzite, and sharpened it. This was used to cut the umbilical cord. This knife had to be held in the left hand. The cord was tied round, about half an inch from the navel. If the child was a boy, he must have the stump of the umbilical cord when it fell off, and the little knife, as amulets. They were sewn into his inner jacket on either side of the chest.

A newly born infant had to be cleansed by being wiped all over with the skin of a sarvaaq, a small snipe (a bird.) Water could not be used.

If a newborn infant were sung over while being cleansed for the first time, the child would grow up to make many songs of its own.

If the newborn child was particularly wanted and it was earnestly desired that it would live (it is hard to imagine that this would not be the case), then a magic prayer was sung over it, even before it had suckled at the breast for the first time. This prayer was called anirnirsiut, a prayer for the spirit of life.

After birth, the child must be placed naked in the mother’s amaut. Clothes for an infant must not be made until after it was born.

In naming the child, some deceased person was invoked, and the child’s mother uttered that person’s name. This was connected with the belief in namesake souls. A child cried for a name, and when the deceased one whose name-soul the child would bear was summoned, care had to be taken that all of the qualities that that soul possessed were communicated to the child.

So, in Rasmussen’s example, if a child were to be named Ujarak, then his mother would say, “Ujarak, qai-qai tamarpit.” Which meant, “Ujarak, come here quickly, come her quickly all of you, that is to say, bringing all the characteristics that pertain to you.”

These were only some of the rules that surrounded the birth of a child in the dim past before Inuit converted to Christianity.

The rules were oppressive and difficult to follow. Yet following them was of the utmost importance. Even more and equally onerous rules governed the mother’s behaviour in the period after the child was born.

Taissumani recounts a specific event of historic interest. Kenn Harper is a historian, writer and linguist who lives in Iqaluit. Feedback? Send your comments and questions to kennharper@hotmail.com.