Someone shared a website with me that included the above photo. There was no context given other than the caption. Some folks who commented on the image immediately drew the conclusion that it was making a statement about babies born of rape. Their assumption was that the photo is a condemnation of anti-abortionists who feel that women who become pregnant through rape are still required to carry their babies to full term.
However, the photo made me think of something different. It made me think about my own reproductive life and the message given to orthodox Jewish couples about the mitzvah of pru urvu (to be fruitful and multiply). Actually, it’s the man’s mitzvah, but man can’t fulfill it without a woman’s womb.
During the courtship process, most frum couples don’t have the question, “Do you want to have kids someday?” It’s a given that both want children. Babies are a blessing in the community, and most frum couples start their marriages anxiously anticipating their first bundle of joy. Most dating couples don’t even ask each other how many kids the other wants. It’s also a given that each wants as many kids as Hashem gives them – or at least as many as they can handle – according to their posek.
Most orthodox couples are prohibited from using birth control until they have at least one boy and one girl. In some extreme cases, a heter is given for the couple to wait, but that is usually for health reasons or other extenuating circumstances. Financial reasons or just wanting to take time during the first year or two of marriage to get to know each other is not a valid reason for using birth control, according to many poskim.
One boy and one girl is the minimum requirement for the number of children required to fulfill the mitzvah of pru urvu. However, most orthodox couples don’t stop with one mixed pair. Even so, after achieving the minimum amount of offspring, some will ask their rabbi for a break.
In my experience, the standard “time off” given is one year from when the psak was issued. After one year, if a couple still feels they are not ready for another baby, they can go back to their rav and make a case for why they need another year of birth control. Depending upon the rabbi, he can either grant permission or say no.
I had been mulling over the concept of Jewish women handing their reproductive lives over to rabbis. Even in a larger sense, handing our reproductive decisions over to the Torah. Certainly, there is the sense that children are supposed to be blessing and that infertility is some kind of curse. We are told countless stories about infertile foremothers who cried out to Hashem for relief – and how they were rewarded for their prayers, tears, and devotion with children.
We are told modern day stories about women who changed their behavior for the better and merited conceiving babies after long bouts of infertility. Perhaps these women weren’t diligent about the laws of taharat hamishpacha, or loshon horah, or tznius. Once they rectified their behavior, they were able to become pregnant. The same could be done on behalf of a friend – davening or taking upon stricter observance of a mitzvah in the merit of another woman having trouble conceiving.
To think that a Jewish woman wouldn’t want to have a large family, or G-d forbid, any children at all is (pardon the pun) inconceivable.
I won’t enumerate on the ways that multiple pregnancies woven close together affects a Jewish woman’s emotional and physical health. It also goes without saying that a working woman is adversely affected by even having one child, much less many children. It is well known that the new glass ceiling for women is during her childbearing years, where all upward progression often comes to a screeching halt, as she is no longer able to devote long hours to the office. Professions that provide the flexibility mothers need are often low paying.
The financial stress of a large family puts a strain on even the strongest of marriages. The work involved in the day to day care of young children leaves little time for the day to day care of the individual parent or spouse. While children can bind a marriage together, there is little discussion about the negative impact raising a large family can have on the shalom bayas of the parents.
With these important considerations in mind, how is it prudent to leave reproductive decisions in the hands of a third party? To ask a man outside the marriage permission to use birth control? To have another person who isn’t a doctor weigh in on essential family planning decisions? The old adage of keeping women barefoot and pregnant is alive and well in the orthodox community, and in my mind, that’s how this photo spoke to me.
