Made for This. Mary Haseltine

previously. Yet the joy of making it to the finish line makes every drop of blood, sweat, and tears worth it. We may arrive there sweaty and aching in every muscle and ligament of our body, it may have been the hardest work we have ever done, but the joy overwhelms and deepens as we invest more and more of ourselves into the race. Like almost anything worth doing or in which we find the greatest pride and satisfaction, labor and birth will require commitment, an investment of self, and, yes, work. Some women may have to work harder, some may seem not to have to do much at all. But the Lord has picked out the perfect race just for you, and it’s the one he knows is best.

      Even the pains which, after original sin, a mother has to suffer to give birth to her child only make her draw tighter the bond which unites them: the more the pain has cost her, so much the more is her love for her child. He who formed mothers’ hearts, expressed this thought with moving and profound simplicity: “A woman about to give birth has sorrow, because her hour has come. But when she has brought forth the child, she no longer remembers the anguish for her joy that a man is born into the world.” Through the pen of the apostle, Saint Paul, the Holy Ghost also points out the greatness and joy of motherhood: God gives the child to the mother, but, together with the gift, he makes her cooperate effectively at the opening of the flower, of which he has deposited the germ in her womb, and this cooperation becomes a way which leads her to her eternal salvation: “Yet women will be saved by childbearing.”

      — Pope Pius XII, Allocution to Midwives

       Entering the Story

      Out of everything God could have chosen, he chose the act of childbearing to be where we as women would most directly feel the effects of original sin. There is something deeply significant in God choosing that specific way for women to bear the consequence of the fall. God could have decided that women also would have to work the land, or that we would have difficulty eating or some other activity, or have to be separated forever from man. God could have struck Eve dead on the spot and started over. But the God of the universe, who is wisdom and love itself, chose childbearing. And every single woman after Eve is now affected — which sometimes doesn’t seem all that fair to our limited minds, does it? Yet those of us now faced with the prospect of physical birth have the opportunity to view it as a time to “enter into the story” of salvation history. Even if we don’t fully understand it, we can view our experience of birth as a vehicle for our own sanctity and response to the problem of sin.

      As Christians we believe that the incarnation of Christ and, ultimately, his passion, death, and resurrection — the Paschal Mystery — change the story. We believe that while the effects of original sin still remain, they can become vehicles of grace when we unite them with the Cross. Saint John Paul II writes, “The Redemption restores, in a sense, at its very root, the good that was essentially ‘diminished’ by sin and its heritage in human history.”⁴⁸ Christ’s death and resurrection didn’t erase those consequences of sin we received. They redeemed them. And this changes everything. We now have the incredible chance to share in that eternal work of Christ. Before Christ, work was simply punishment for sin; now it is an avenue for redemption and grace.

      In birth, we women have the opportunity to enter this mystery. Saint Paul refers to this reality: “Woman will be saved through bearing children, if she continues in faith and love and holiness, with modesty” (1 Tm 2:15). Our births are effective tools in sanctifying both ourselves and the world. During pregnancy, labor, birth, and after, we have the chance to allow our bodies to mimic Christ’s as we lay down our lives for the sake of another. Through Christ, the pain of childbirth is redeemed and capable of eternal good, not just for ourselves or our babies, but for the whole world. Drawing upon his example and grace, we have the chance to embrace our own cross; offer our will, minds, and bodies; and bring new life into the world.

      The Catechism reflects that invitation: “In his mercy God has not forsaken sinful man. The punishments consequent upon sin, ‘pain in childbearing’ and toil ‘in the sweat of your brow,’ also embody remedies that limit the damaging effects of sin” (1609).

      Whoa. Read that again. We have the opportunity to view the labor and sufferings we endure during birth as a unique part of God’s plan to redeem the world from sin! Our births can be a “remedy” for the world for the effects of sin. What a mind-blowing invitation!

      Replicating the sacrificial love of Christ, we women offer our very bodies to the child within. We can do this in myriad ways, of course — through eating well and exercising, through the aches and pains of pregnancy, even through the unconscious continual nourishing of that tiny body through our own blood. Yet no act better replicates that type of complete and total sacrificial offering of self as the act of birth. A woman’s body becomes the vehicle, the passageway, of new life entering the world. Just as Christ offered his body on the cross to give each one of us new life, so a mother offers her body on the bed, in the pool, on the table, to give that baby new life. What looks like pain and blood and even death becomes the very avenue through which the world will be changed.

      Pope Saint John Paul said just this in his Letter to Families:

      The fact that a child is being born, that “a child is born into the world” (Jn 16:21) is a paschal sign…. The “hour” of Christ’s death (cf. Jn 13:1) is compared here to the “hour” of the woman in birthpangs; the birth of a new child fully reflects the victory of life over death brought about by the Lord’s Resurrection. This comparison can provide us with material for reflection. (11)

      The mother’s act of birth “fully reflects” the paschal mystery of Christ. The mother in her own little paschal mystery offers herself completely, despite the pain, the fear, and the sacrifice required to give her child life. In birth, the woman has the opportunity to use her body for the glory of God. Her body becomes a sign of Christ’s love for each and every person, a sign for the world that redemption is real, and that Christ has won. Just as Christ first offered his body and blood in the Eucharist at the Last Supper, so a woman offers her body to the infant in her womb at conception and throughout pregnancy. And just as that first Eucharistic celebration culminated in the great sacrifice of the Cross, so a woman reaches that culmination of her bodily offering in the great sacrifice of birth.

      Archbishop Fulton Sheen declared: “Not only a woman’s days, but her nights — not only her mind, but her body must share in the Calvary of motherhood. That is why women have a surer understanding of the doctrine of redemption than men have: they have to associate the risk of death with life in childbirth, and to understand the sacrifice of self to another through the many months preceding it.”⁴⁹

      It is important to note here that the language of a woman’s body still exists whether she has a natural vaginal birth, whether it is medicated, or whether she has a surgical birth. Regardless of the method, her body is still a beautiful and profound sign of the Paschal Mystery as she lays it down at the service of new life. In any kind of birth, she gives of herself completely, vulnerably, to the point of her own blood being spilled so that her child may have life. The act of birth is by its very nature paschal. We as women have the opportunity to climb our own unique Calvary and ultimately give ourselves over as Christ did, offering our complete bodies — naked, vulnerable, messy, and beautiful — to usher new life into the world.

      Our unique experience of birth is our chance to enter into the story — Christ’s story. No matter how one’s birth plays out, Christ continues to be present and available. No matter what kind of birth you have, there is opportunity for grace and growth, and an offering of self. There is an opening in the story of sin and salvation and redemption for you.

      Will there be pain? Most likely, yes. But as Catholics we approach pain and suffering in a very different way from the rest of the world. Through Christ, pain has the power to become something beautiful and redeeming. God has endowed our bodies with a unique feminine strength to share in this work. We see it as an opportunity to grow in union with God, to become stronger, and even to participate in the work of saving souls. And, as almost any mother can attest as she looks her baby in the eyes, it is worth it.

      In finding out that you are pregnant, you are able to be freed, liberated from the tyranny of yourself in this tiny world in which you were the most important.