Throughout much of history, birth has been extraordinarily dangerous. The statistics on maternal mortality in the early 19th century paint a grim picture; though the best data in this era comes from Europe, it’s clear that a birthing parent frequently risked deadly complications, including infections caused by unwashed doctors. It’s all too easy to imagine how poorly things could go for someone whose labor went south while on the trail, far from knowledgeable folks who could have eased her pain, saved her life, or saved her baby’s life.
This isn’t pure conjecture, either. Take the sad case of Elizabeth Paul, who died in western Wyoming. Paul gave birth to her eighth child, a daughter, on the trail on July 27, 1862, and died soon thereafter. As fellow traveler Hamilton Scott wrote, “She has been very poorly for some time. We buried her this evening under a large pine tree and put a post and railing fence around her grave.” The baby girl, named Elizabeth, died just a week later (via Wyoming Historical Society). Paul’s gravesite can still be visited in the Bridger-Teton National Forest.
Even if an expecting mother on the Oregon Trail was less likely to encounter a doctor with dirty hands than her city-bound counterpart, birth remained dangerous. While she may have had access to a midwife, a pregnant woman was also likely to be missing much of her support system, be it family or helpful neighbors who could guide her through labor and the postpartum period.
