Childbirth Is Messy: a Christmas Reflection

…and change is hard.

(but without them, we wouldn’t have Christmas)

Childbirth is messy. I am remembering the three days I was in labor with my daughter (who, in case anybody is wondering, pretty much weighed more at birth than she did for years after. Ten pounds, she was!) She was my first baby; I had no idea what to expect. I wore my favorite fuzzy slippers to the hospital, since they were comfortable and made me happy. I never wore them again after that birth experience. I don’t know why nobody told me ahead of time that giving birth (and especially the aftermath) would pretty much ruin them.

It’s funny how our culture has cleaned up and sanitized the Christmas birth story. It’s “Silent Night, Holy Night,” not “Wailing Baby, Excruciating Labor Pains” night. My first labor and delivery experience was wrenching and long, and I had nurses to help me and drugs that eased the pain. I cannot imagine what it must have been like for Mary, to go through that basically alone, in a barn. It must have been so painful.

So this is just to say that birth is not easy, and that’s a part of the Christmas story I haven’t thought much about. I don’t think many of us have. Our culture has done its best to turn Christmas into “the most wonderful time of the year,” a season where we look for joy and peace (and feel like there is something wrong with us if we aren’t feeling so great). But also there is shopping (and baking. And decorating) that must be done, which doesn’t always go along with the “joy and peace” theme very well. But without the shopping, what would happen to our capitalistic nation? Things would fall apart.

This is strange. We long to experience the peace of Christmas but feel pressure to spend and get so many other holiday things done, too.

If we go back to the original point of Christmas, the birth of Jesus, surely it was not peaceful or sweet in the way we usually think of those words. Yes, there was joy when he finally arrived (and shepherds, too. The shepherds are one of my favorite parts of the story). Hopefully there is always joy with a new baby’s birth. But for his mother and Joseph, there must also have been fear and uncertainty. And, of course, for Mary? There was tremendous pain.

This Christmas season has been a strange one for me. Thinking about what Mary went through in the labor and delivery process (in a barn) has given me a strange sense of peace. Maybe it’s OK that I’ve been a little out of sorts, because the process of birthing something new can be painful.  Sometimes, perhaps, the new arrives effortlessly. I guess? But for Mary (and me), the new right now isn’t arriving wrapped up in a jolly song, with a fa la la la la Hallmark Christmas movie ending. Sometimes, it shows up with blood and rips you apart.

Then? With time?

There is healing.

Then? With time? I can embrace and love whatever it was that was born through the pain.

Soon, I hope.

Soon.

Merry Christmas, my friends. Grateful for you at Christmas and always.