This is all we really have, "And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn." Luke 2:6-7
"And she gave birth..." Thinking back to my three lovely babies I birthed, these four tiny words make me shudder with the great and awesome memory of bringing life into the world. We can only guess what her experience may have been like. God didn't give us many details, but he credits her. She did it. Each time I delivered my babies, I remember having a moment (or a few) when it hit me that I did it. I gave birth. In the moments after Miles was born at home I remember laughing with joy, looking at David and saying "We did it! I did it!" To be the vessel for a fantastic and powerful and miraculous event such as birth is nothing short of a privilege and gift.
Mary... we know she was young, blessed, and set apart... Riding the waves of each contraction, disrupting the animals' sleep with her low moans, gripping wooden stable stalls at each peak. Likely a teenager, drawing on the power of Yahweh. Remembering her Jewish mothers and grandmothers, aunts and friends. Perhaps she had attended births in her community. Maybe attending birth was commonplace. Maybe she didn't have any of the fear that invades the hearts and minds of so many of her daughters today.
The labor pains continued as she swayed about the hay, avoiding animal feces and slop troughs as she moved. Deep called to deep and she was fully dilated. A sudden and powerful roar pulled the baby's head down, closer to his mother, yet further away from her. She pushed–for how long? It was her first baby, maybe 20 minutes, or maybe 3 hours. How frustrating those first attempts can be. She worked it out and settled into a comfortable position. A woman absorbed in her own strength, in the mighty power of God.
Did she reach down and feel the head of the very Son of God inside of her body? Did she allow herself the pleasure of touching his body inside of her own during those final moments before birth?
Did she wail? Did she utter animal-like cries of agony? Was she in perfect peace, merely humming a low moan? Did she experience ecstasy?
The second stage: laborious pushing, straining, pain and joy, out of Mary's body, the life and light of men entered the world. What happened in Heaven as Jesus' head erupted out into the night air? God's very Word had arrived, slippery, covered in fluid and vernix, his umbilical cord pulsating placental blood back into his tiny body. Blood that would be shed for the salvation of the world.
Mother Mary. Throwing her head back in relief and joy, sweating and exhausted, did she pull sweet baby Emmanuel to her bare chest? Did she cup her hands over his dear little head and kiss him in all of his mess?
Settling into cloths laid out in a makeshift bed, baby Jesus' body warms on his mother's skin. She strokes his head, his back, marvels at his tiny toes and weeps with joy. Overwhelming emotions of love and gratefulness fill her heart and mind. She notices his little head bobbing up and down, his body working its way down to her breast. She offers him a drink, as his tiny mouth learns this new way of life. Mary remembers the ways of the women she grew up with. Holds her breast just right and guides her baby's lips–he's latched! This strange new sensation, followed by tiny swallowing sounds, and they're nursing! She marvels at her Son, his perfect tiny ears, the little hairs on his face that will disappear with the passing days of infancy. She is nourishing God incarnate with her body.
The suckling causes the pains to come once again. She holds her baby close, admiring his beauty, pushes to deliver the placenta. Does Joseph wrap it in cloth? The blood shed following birth can be quite substantial. Trash pickup didn't just come around to the manger the next day. Perhaps the holy family was surrounded by piles of unclean rags for days before someone was able to bury or burn them. Days where they looked at a mother's blood shed for the birth of the Savior of the world. Did she know her baby's blood would wash human hearts clean?
Did they allow the cord to dry out? We know Jesus was wrapped in swaddling cloths and laid in a manger. Texts tell us it was customary to cut the cord, rub the infant with salt, and then wrap the baby in swaddling bands. What was available we don't know, but at some point Jesus was physically separated from his mother. His overjoyed and exhausted mother. Likely falling asleep at the breast, Mary sees her baby boy drift off into a dream, snuggled in the cleanest rags they could find. She rests her own eyes and sleeps. Mary is a mother. A Savior is born. The world is forever changed.
* * * *
During labor, it was customary for Jewish women to keep a copy of Psalm 121 with them and later place it in the baby's crib. Perhaps Mary sung this song to her precious new baby as he drifted off to sleep...
I lift up my eyes to the hills.
From where does my help come?
2 My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.
3 He will not let your foot be moved;
he who keeps you will not slumber.
4 Behold, he who keeps Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
he who keeps you will not slumber.
4 Behold, he who keeps Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
5 The Lord is your keeper;
the Lord is your shade on your right hand.
6 The sun shall not strike you by day,
nor the moon by night.
the Lord is your shade on your right hand.
6 The sun shall not strike you by day,
nor the moon by night.
7 The Lord will keep you from all evil;
he will keep your life.
8 The Lord will keep
your going out and your coming in
from this time forth and forevermore.
he will keep your life.
8 The Lord will keep
your going out and your coming in
from this time forth and forevermore.
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