Celebrating the birth, the kiddush, the sholom zochor, even naming the newborn does not even get a word. The parsha regarding the postpartum woman, the opening parsha of Tazria, says that it is all about becoming tamei, circumcising the boys and bringing a chatos, a sin offering. For what possible sin could all women be held accountable during the life threatening and enormously painful event of birthing? Why should the state of tuma (being distanced from that which is holy), which descends upon a person who has been in contact with the dead, connect in any way to one who has just given new life?
In identifying the alleged sin ascribed to the postpartum woman, Ramban (13:7) quotes Chazal (Nidah 31b) who suggest that every woman, in the throes of childbirth, swears against another pregnancy. Yet it is hard for me to imagine that one needs to appeal for forgiveness for something blurted out in a moment of intense pain. I assume that Chazal are presenting a Freudian like idea, that even a momentary lapse has to be explored and can provide valuable instruction. Picture if you will, a mother who has waited a decade to have a baby, has exhausted every conceivable technique, has resigned herself to a childless life, and is now, thank G-d, suffering the anguish of a very difficult labor. She, even through unbearable and unceasing pangs, is not likely to regret a moment of the birthing. Torah wishes every Jewish child to be welcomed in similar fashion, expressing unstinting and uncompromising appreciation of the preciousness of every Jewish life.
That being said, the Ramban prefers another approach[1], perhaps because it is still quite difficult to understand that one should be censured to the extent of having to bring a sin offering for a spur of the moment comment that is not at all processed. Furthermore we still are confused by the state of tuma that the postpartum women has.
In response to a similar question the Ramban develops an idea which may be helpful in understanding our parsha. Contrary to other commentaries, the Ramban accords the nazir, who voluntarily abstains from grooming his hair and drinking wine for a period of time, an elevated spiritual state. Nevertheless upon the successful and hopefully religiously uplifting nezirus, the nazir must bring a sin offering. Here too, the Ramban (Bamidbar 6:11) questions the propriety of a sin offering. Should the nazir not be lauded for exercising a divine ordained plan of self improvement? The Ramban responds that the korban comes to acknowledge the inability of the nazir to maintain his superior circumstance of nezirus.
This suggests that sometimes a sin offering is brought to highlight the spiritual drop that one may endure even if it comes naturally and necessarily. Giving birth also imposes a similar occasion on every mother. One moment this woman is at the height of creativity and undergoes a singular G-d like moment, and the next instant her womb is empty. Now, this "yerida" in body and spirit is thrust upon her and is obviously all part of Hashem's design. Nevertheless it is valuable for us to acknowledge it.
Interestingly it parallels what is commonly called the postpartum blues and the two concurrent events may find their source lies close together even as simply acknowledging both of them may prove of great significance.
The tuma imposed on her, explains the Ramban in a cryptic comment in our parsha, stems from the loss of being a physical source of life. The korban acknowledges that the human condition, created from flesh and blood to live our days in this world, cannot and perhaps should not over extend G-d like moments. Together the tuma and the korban emphasize a desired and designed rhythm of spiritual growth and consolidation of that growth into the lives we lead on this planet.
Perhaps these cadences can serve as a model for other events that are more frequent, and that may bring the idea into sharper focus. We continuously aspire to and successfully grasp spiritual highs but cannot maintain them. However if we can learn to acknowledge them, then we can continue to dream for those moments and build on the sense that they are indeed within our reach. Thus we can hope for lives rich in spiritual moments and ultimately endowed with deep and profound spirituality.
Recognizing this pattern is so important that, according to the Ramban, Hashem introduced it to us back in parshas VaYeytze. There the Torah records that three flocks gathered together everyday, waiting for the collective muscle of the shepherds to remove the stone from above a well. Ramban explains that this seeming unnecessary detail is a reference to the three regalim. Yaakov, as he begins to experience the vulnerability of his travels into galus away from the roots of all that he had become, is assured by Hashem, that his children will return to their roots and drink from their well spring at least three times each year. However this does not explain why we are told that the shepherds replace the stone on the well. Surely that is a detail that can be left to our imagination. True the detail can be omitted but the lesson for which it is metaphor is far too important to go unsaid. Ya'akov is also being taught that we will not as a people live by the well. His children will live lives that appreciate our wellsprings, trying to weave them into their otherwise mundane routine. We will have the challenge of uplifting mundane ritual with refreshing periods of inspiration.
Rav Chaim Friedlander sees in this cycle an all important rhythm. A Jew must experience sanctity and spirituality to know what he can reach and to what he can aspire. Then he has to begin the hard work of shaping and nurturing efforts of his own, in order to once again reach those peaks. One has to know that he can daven with all the intensity of kol nidrei and neelah and then attempt to reach that on other occasions. One has to know that he can learn with focus and intensity in his youth and then forever strive for that composure. One has to know that he can have the patience to administer chessed in the leisurely periods of life and try to attain that tolerance during the normal rushed stream of events.
Similarly a new mother is given by our ritual, time to realize that she has delivered in G-d like fashion a new life. She has been granted a rare and unmatched moment of spiritual achievement. How can it not stand alone as an extraordinary moment in the past that will rarely come again? How can it be woven into the fabric of the years to come? It is precisely to confront these feelings that tuma is imposed and that a korban is required.
If we are correct thus far, then the korban will come to encourage the realization that parenting will bring great moments of teaching and counseling, loving and nurturing. Those moments in the aggregate will shape hearts and souls. Hopefully, every parent will look back after some time and, with G-d's blessings, celebrate the prayers and the efforts that have forged young people into responsible servants of Hashem and undeniably realize the G-d like creativity that we once again were graced to have.
[1] The Ramban could be interpreted as expressing one idea, as we explained, using the words of Chazal as a way to amplify and simplify a thought that he expressed in esoteric terms.