The Beauty of Birth

Just over a week ago, in the hours of early morning, our home was filled with cries of joy and delight at the arrival of our daughter, Ada. As we huddled together in the inflatable birthing pool in our living room, with Ada in our arms, I stared in wonder and relief at the culmination of 9 months of preparation, toil and waiting. And without question, I knew it had all been worth it.

I’ve now witnessed my wife experience two pregnancies, and walked with her through two very different labors and deliveries.  Our son, Liam, was born at our local hospital at 42 weeks following an induction and 30+ hour labor. His first 24 hours were spent in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) in order to ensure the stability of his breathing. In the end, despite the unexpected trauma, we deemed it an overall positive experience.

Ada was born at home, after two days of early labor, and seven hours of active labor. She was born under the water, without complications, and was snuggled with us within mere seconds of her exit from a watery womb, to the watery world. I even got to cut the umbilical cord, her last attachment to her old life, as she began establishing the vital attachments for her new one (like breastfeeding!)  The home birth was all we’d prayed it to be—calm, comfortable and peaceful. Well, as much as things can be calm, comfortable and peaceful during birth.

Walking with a woman through pregnancy and delivery will impact a man more than he will ever realize. Unfortunately, men’s participation in the pregnancy and birth process has been historically sparse, either because of cultural mores or because of their own disinterest. This is ironic, since, as we heard during birthing class, the “man got the baby in, he should be there to help get the baby out!” Beyond that obvious fact, taking an active role in pregnancy and delivery opens our male eyes to wondrous things about our wives, and the children they bear us. Here are some of those observations.

A pregnant woman is uniquely beautiful. In a culture that is obsessed with the perfect body, the last thing pregnant women ever hear is that they are beautiful. Sure, there are things in pregnancy that aren’t terribly attractive: the morning nausea at our breakfast table, the intrusive body pillow that shared the bed with us since the second trimester, and the increasing belly size that made it harder to draw my wife into a close embrace. But all of these are swallowed up in the true wonder of that baby-belly. It reminds me that my wife is a life-giver, specially equipped to nurture this little unborn person, and at the appointed time, bring her into the world. That beautiful bump testifies to the love that Mikaela and I have for one another, a love that will sustain us as we care for the little ones God has sent us.

A pregnant woman’s endurance level is astonishing. My wife experienced morning sickness (which uncannily seems to show up in the afternoon and evening too) in both of her pregnancies, but it was especially intense during her pregnancy with Ada. Add to that the complete rearrangement of a woman’s physiological structure to accommodate the baby’s increasingly rapid growth, with the resulting soreness, aches, and strains from neck to feet. Then there are outside conditions that collide with the pregnancy—the stomach flu for instance. Labor itself has all the intensity of a runner’s sprint, but with the duration of a marathon. And to get to the finish line, she has to jump through the “ring of fire,” the excruciating pain associated with the final push to get the baby out into the world. All this adds up to this important truth: pregnancy, labor, and delivery aren’t for sissies.

Pregnancy, labor and delivery are divine symbols for our own spiritual salvation. Jesus told Nicodemus that in order for him to enter God’s Kingdom, he had to be “born again” (John 3:3). It’s not by accident that Jesus chose the picture of birth to illustrate the process by which a person is reconciled to God and made spiritually alive. I’ve watched as my wife has cared, tended, and labored to bring our children into the world. With joy, with sorrow, with determination she has done so, and yes, even with great, great pain. And so has our great God. With tender love and care, He brings us to repentance. By the pain of Calvary’s Cross He wrought us eternal life. And by his Holy Spirit, He brings us forth as His redeemed children. There is great joy in His house too, when a new child is born into His kingdom (Luke 15:10).