Where does the fable that the stork gives birth to babies come from and how did it become popular?

When I was five years old, my grandmother gave my younger sister and me a picture book that explained in detail how a man and a woman have sex to have a baby.

It surprised us. Until then, our only point of reference for babies’ origins was Disney’s “Dumbo” delivered to their mother by a stork.

My mother was embarrassed and put the book on a high shelf, hoping it would come to that.

My sister and I, of course, climbed onto a chair to set it down and continued to scan the images, laughing and pointing in disbelief at the naked bodies, while my parents fumbled to dodge our barrage of questions.

A few years later, when they thought I was the right age to learn the truth about sex, childbirth, and puberty, they gave me “the talk.”

Sex education was also given at the Dutch and English primary schools I visited.

But many kids around the world don’t get enough education about sex until they get to high school, if that ever happens.

“There are still many children who get popular stories or mythical answers about the origin of babies.said Lucy Emmerson, Executive Director of the Sex Education Forum in the UK.

Where did those fables come from?

The crane that steals babies

The stork is one of the most present. Movies, cartoons, cartoons and picture books show how these graceful, long-legged birds carry newborn babies to their parents.

The original myth dates back to ancient Greece, where cranes, which bear many similarities to storks, were linked to the theft of babies.

In Greek mythology, Hera, the goddess of childbirth, turned her rival Gerana, queen of the pygmy people, into a crane because she had an affair with her husband Zeus.

Unwilling to part with her newborn son, Gerana picked up the baby, wrapped him in a blanket and flew away with the baby in her beak.

After a while, the crane merged with the storksays Paul Quinn, Senior Lecturer in English Literature at the University of Chichester in the UK.

“There is a link with domesticity because storks nest on the roofs of houses.”

Another mythological layer was added by the pelican, which in medieval European literature was a symbol of the Virgin Mary and nurturing mother, says Quinn.

In the early 1800s, the stork began appearing in fairy tales, often to save human babies.

“It found babies in wells, ponds or marshes, pulled them out with its beak and wrapped them in a sling,” says Marina Warner, a professor of English and creative writing at Birkbeck College, University of London.

That version was popularized by the story “The Storks” by Hans Christian Andersen (1839).

According to Andersen’s account, there is a “pond in which all the little children lie”, until the storks “go and look for them to take them to their parents”.

“The beautiful little ones sleep there and dream such beautiful things that they will never dream again.”

“Every parent longs for one of them, and every child wishes for a little brother or sister.”

But there is a cruel twistStorks bring a dead brother to children who misbehave as punishment.

Despite this gruesome ending, Andersen’s story quickly spread around the world.

In its benign form, the stork myth persists in popular culture.

To this day, the nevus flammeus nuchae, a common birthmark on the skin of newborns caused by blood vessel malformations, which is still colloquially referred to as “stork bite”which emphasizes the influence of the story.

A similar confluence of old beliefs and parental fears lurks behind another colorful myth about where babies come from: the idea that they grow up in cabbage or cabbage gardens.

The myth may have originated from various beliefs and practices surrounding plants and fertility.

In Scotland, it was customary for children to put cabbage leaves outside their homes to ask the fairies to bring them a little brother, says Quinn. And in the old days, women ate cabbage to be more fertile and have good pregnancies.

In French, the expression of affection for a small child is “mon petit chou” (“my little cabbage”).

Like the boy saved by the stork, the baby born in cabbage is “found in nature and discovered as part of the natural world,” says Warner.

Similar stories about children growing up in gardens and orchards exist around the world, as does an endearing Japanese folk myth about a boy emerging from a peach.

For parents, they provided a “way to explain things to their kids that they wouldn’t otherwise be able to explain to them,” says Quinn.

“Many parents didn’t understand their own anatomy, so it would have been difficult for them to explain the facts to their children,” says Warner.

The stories got them out of trouble.

Harmful myths?

While the stork remains a popular motif on greeting cards and gifts, it can be hard to imagine parents in the 21st century trying to convince their children that babies are born that way.

But other myths and euphemisms remain surprisingly common, says Spring Chenoa Cooper of the City University of New York School of Public Health.

One of the reasons is Only many parents still don’t know when and how to talk about it..

But those euphemisms can be confusing for kids, says Emmerson. Also, parents may later find it difficult to correct the story and admit that they lied.

And, Cooper points out, “when people make assumptions based on myths and misinformation, the result can be harmful.”

In Australia, the HPV vaccine, which is given to young people to prevent cervical cancer, is commonly known as the ‘sex vaccine’.

That led some girls to mistakenly believe that it protected them from STIs and that their partners didn’t need to use condoms, Cooper says.

Another danger of using euphemisms is that it can create a pattern of not talking openly about sex, experts say, making it hard for kids and teens to trust their parents.

“They can be assaulted and feel like they can’t talk about it, get pregnant and not tell anyone, or get a sexually transmitted disease and not treat it,” says Cooper.

“The fear of talking about these things can have lifelong consequences.”.

To do

However, schools do not necessarily fix gaps and misunderstandings.

“If parents think, ‘If I don’t say anything, they’ll understand when they go to school,’ that’s probably not the case,” warns Emmerson.

It seems my grandmother was right then when she gave me that illustrated book about sex and babies.

But for parents who can’t imagine that level of candor and factual detail, researchers suggest starting smallwith short and easy talks instead of a big conversation.

“[Se trata] realizing that there will be many opportunities to teach your kids a little bit of vocabulary about their bodies and also about their emotions,” says Emmerson.

For example, if a young child asks how babies are born, “suffice it to say that the baby grows in the mother’s womb and emerges from the vagina.”

“There is no need to explain sexual intercourse. Just give a factual answer that isn’t a fabrication.”

“Anytime a child asks you a question about sex, answer it very simply and directly,” Cooper recommends.

“You don’t have to sit them down and lecture them for an hour…that might intimidate them into not asking about it again.”

Vital concepts such as consent and boundaries can be taught early on.

Does this mean that there is no place for charming tales of storks and coals in modern parenting culture?

No, but we can enjoy them as they are: colorful delights of the imagination, handed down from previous generations.