“With every push the monitor is showing signs that baby is in distress. At this point I recommend we do a c section.”
For 24 hours I have held it together so well. From the pains of the induction process, to the exhaustion of attempting to push my baby out, I have taken each step one at a time, trusting the nurses and doctors as they did their best to guide my baby out into the world.
But now, I fall apart. The tears come and cannot be restrained. I can’t catch my breath. It’s a panic attack. My doctor and nurse stay upbeat and bubbly as they jump into motion, ushering my husband from the room and flooding my epidural with medication. They don’t understand that I am grieving the moment that I thought was just at my grasp- when with a gasp and a cry my son would be safely out and placed in my arms to be held for an hour, bonding skin to skin.
Within moments I am wheeled to surgery. I can’t keep my eyes open. I don’t even notice when my skin is lacerated. The doctors are a blur behind the translucent curtain. My body is trembling violently.
“There’s your baby!” I hear, and then a cry, and he’s being held up to the curtain, still attached to me. I lift my hand to the baby behind the curtain. My baby? I truly can’t keep my eyes open. I fall asleep.
Later that day, my son rests in my arms. I study his face and my heart overflows with love for him. This precious soul was worth every pain I have suffered. I give thanks to God.
Almost exactly a year ago my first child was removed from my body. There were no joyful nurses, no cries of new life, just a handful of somber medical staff performing a D&C to remove the 9-week-old baby who had passed away in my womb.
We named our child Eden as a reminder that God would one day restore his creation to perfection and unite us in resurrection.
As I grieved our precious baby, I wrote about this experience to help myself process the loss. I delved into what the scriptures say about unborn life and found comfort in God’s mercy.
This was published on Lutheran Witness’ online publication titled Is the Baby Gone?
Now, as the anniversary of our miscarriage approaches and our son turns a month old, I am once again pondering God in the midst of motherhood.
Our human understanding of God is strikingly paradoxical. God is just yet merciful. God but also man. A servant and a king. Lion and lamb. Shepherd and sacrificial sheep.
Motherhood is full of paradoxes too. It is the most natural relationship and yet it goes completely against our selfish human nature. It is beautiful and gory, vulnerable and strong, heartwarming and heart breaking. Bitter and sweet. In some ways it is a curse, and in others a great blessing.
A blessing and a curse-this brings to mind Eve, the very first mother.
Genesis 3:15-16: And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring [1] and hers; he will crush [2] your head, and you will strike his heel. “To the woman he said, “I will greatly increase your pains in childbearing; with pain you will give birth to children. Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you.”
Eve received a curse that would impact all women to come. In pain, she would bear children. She also received a blessing, though, through the curse cast upon satan. God promised that her offspring would be her salvation. It is no wonder, then, that motherhood is composed of curses and blessings.
It is common knowledge that birth is painful. The pain of birth is unavoidable, even with modern pain control methods. For many women it is the most painful experience of their lives. But I do not believe that the curse of pain for mothers is limited to birth. The consequences of the fall into sin are much more pervasive than that.
Consider Mary, mother of Jesus. She was blessed to be chosen by God to bear the savior of the world. She surely enjoyed many beautiful moments with Jesus as she watched him grow. But she also experienced the emotional pain of social judgment for her pregnancy out of wedlock. She dealt with the pains of pregnancy while riding a donkey into Bethlehem. She knew worry and fear as she watched Jesus embark on his ministry knowing the anger he was stirring in the Jewish leaders. And as Simeon prophesied, a sword would pierce her own soul as she watched helplessly as her perfect son was murdered for the sins of the people, including hers.
There are many curses connected to motherhood. Like Hannah and Elizabeth, countless women long for babies for years, and some never bear children of their own. Like Bathsheba, or the mothers of Bethlehem, there are mothers who watch their beloved babies suffer and die. There are also more everyday, universal curses of motherhood. Mothers sacrifice their sleep, bodies, time, and wants for the sake of their families. They suffer from worry for their children that never truly ends. They grieve the babies that grow into adults and leave home. They ache from their children’s pain, failures, and sins.
But oh, the blessings. Discovering there is a life growing inside. Feeling kicks and hiccups inside your belly. Seeing the precious face with features of your husband and yourself. Watching that tiny person grow physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Finding purpose and fulfillment in service to your family. Watching your child achieve and have children of their own. Countless kisses, cuddles, and embraces. And a precious love unlike any other.
As mothers, we bear our children and we bear the curse of Eve. But we also enjoy the merciful blessings that God bestows on us through our vocation. And we treasure the greatest blessing that God has given us. God gave the ultimate sacrifice, His own spotless child, for the sake of his adopted children. With a love greater even than that of a mother for her children, Christ sacrificed Himself and blesses us with forgiveness and eternal life.
Motherhood is a beautiful gift, perfect in its design by God but corrupted by sin until Christs return. Fellow mothers, cling to God’s word when the curses weigh you down. And thank God for every blessing that He gives you, his beloved child.