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Birth Fallen, Birth Redeemed

“When a woman is in labor, she has pain because her hour has come; but when she is delivered of the child, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a child is born into the world.”— John 16:21

Ah, the chapter where it gets a bit more real … or, more appropriately, where we feel it a bit more. All that nice theology talk sounds lovely and looks great on paper. But at some point we need to get to the reality of what that will actually mean for us in our bodies. Does God’s plan affect what we as women physically experience during our births?

In his Theology of the Body, Pope John Paul II based his reflections and work on Christ’s prompting to go “back to the beginning” to understand God’s design and will for us, which helps us better understand what he wants from us, and what birth can become in light of the redemption.

Was Birth Supposed to Be Painful?

In the story of creation taken from Scripture, we are led to understand that God designed and desired childbirth. The very first command given to Adam and Eve after their creation was, “Be fruitful and multiply” (Gn 1:29). He wanted Adam and Eve to be intimate, to conceive, and to give birth! Sex, the physical, self-giving love between husband and wife, is good and desired by God, and it is meant to be fruitful both spiritually and physically. This means that the natural result — birth — is also good and desired by God.

As the fruit of the perfect love between a perfect man and a perfect woman, in the beginning birth did not include pain. Did it occur as naturally as other bodily functions, or was it even pleasurable or euphoric? We don’t know. We do know, however, that things changed.

When Adam and Eve sinned, they upset God’s original design for all of creation, which means God’s original design for birth also got messed up. While the first command of God still stands, it now comes with caveats. Genesis tells us: “To the woman he said, ‘I will greatly multiply your pain [issabownek] in childbearing; in pain [be’eseb] you shall bring forth children, yet your desire shall be for your husband, and he shall rule over you” (3:16).

This is not happenstance. The consequence hits at the very heart of who the woman is — bringer of life into the world. God doesn’t negate that original command to be fruitful and multiply — sexuality, marriage, and childbearing are still good and desired by God — but now the original plan becomes more difficult. The effects of sin reach deep into who we are as man and woman, both as individuals and in relationship to each other.

In all of human history, the Church traditionally holds that only one woman ever underwent childbirth without suffering the consequences of original sin: there is a long-standing tradition that Mary gave birth to Jesus without pain, because she was conceived without sin through the future merits of her Son. The Catechism of the Council of Trent states: “To Eve it was said: In sorrow shalt thou bring forth children. Mary was exempt from this law, for preserving her virginal integrity inviolate she brought forth Jesus the Son of God without experiencing … any sense of pain.”⁴³ Many Church Fathers also wrote that Mary had no pain in childbirth.

Pain in childbirth is the lingering and deeply rooted effect of sin, and we regret that consequence. But this should not lead us to despair, or to curse Eve, or to distance ourselves from Mary. Rather, it is an invitation to allow our hearts to see the tragedy of sin, and then choose to find our own unique part to play in God’s plan in light of the rest of the story.

The Importance of the Biblical Understanding of “Pain”

If we are seeking to understand God’s design for birth, then let’s try to understand what he himself says about it in Scripture. The first thing to note is the very words used in the original Hebrew texts. Translating from one language to another often loses some of the full meaning, and the connotation can change depending on the word used by the translator. The Hebrew masculine noun used for Adam’s punishment — “toil” in his work (be’issabown⁴⁴) — has the same root noun, itstsabon, as the feminine noun used for Eve’s “pain” in childbirth (issabownek⁴⁵): “To the woman he said, ‘I will greatly multiply your pain [issabownek] in childbirth’” (Gn 3:16). Itstsabon is defined as “pain or toil.”⁴⁶ A different word, be’eseb, is used in the next line from Genesis: “In pain [be’eseb] you will bring forth children.” Both words come from the verb ‘atsab, which is simply defined as “to displease or grieve.”⁴⁷

Simply put, the “pain” in childbirth can have a larger connotation than our language offers. It might give us a truer perspective of pregnancy and birth to use a fuller definition. While there are women who are graced with nearly painless births (really!), the vast majority will experience some degree of pain. But it can be tremendously helpful to change your mindset toward what labor and birth will be. Prompted by a more complete understanding of the words of Genesis, let’s take on the idea that labor is work. As Adam has his difficult work, so Eve has hers. Labor is called labor for a reason. Labor, birth, and recovery will be very, very hard work.

The preparation for and the act of birth is analogous to a marathon. There is much preparation involved, there is a lot of work to put in, and it’s not at all easy or comfortable. It may, in fact, become very painful, and it will likely be a challenge beyond anything experienced 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. You are free to love and give and sacrifice. And that holy grace will make you something altogether different. You will be shaken, humbled, stretched, and broken. And it will make you a mother.

— Haley Stewart, mom to three

Mary, Our Lady of Childbirth

“Mary’s maternity is the model of all motherhood.”— Saint Teresa Benedicta of the Cross

In the Incarnation, God was born of a woman. God chose to enter humanity through the rite of birth. If nothing written thus far has convinced you that birth is beautiful and has the capacity to be holy, this truth should.

The Son of God could have chosen any way to become human. But he chose, from all eternity, to be conceived and grown in a human woman and born from her very body. In Mary, childbirth is reclaimed again for God. In her “yes” (fiat) to the angel Gabriel at the Annunciation, Mary became the new woman of Genesis, the archetype for all women. Her “yes” is the reversal of Eve’s “no.” She is the new Eve. The consequences of Eve’s disobedience can now be redeemed and made new through Mary’s obedience. Willingly and freely Mary chose to offer her body as the vehicle for God to become man and bring eternal life to the world.

What an example we have in Mary’s beautiful and bold openness to the will of God. What’s more, we have the opportunity to do the same. United with her, we can give God the offering of our very body to bring new life into the world. Mary can be the model we need to open our hearts, bodies, and souls to new life. Even those experiencing a pregnancy unexpected or less than ideal can see themselves in her, for certainly Mary’s situation was considered less than ideal on the surface! “In Mary, Eve discovers the nature of the true dignity of woman, of feminine humanity. This discovery must continually reach the heart of every woman and shape her vocation and her life.”⁵⁰

While Mary probably did not experience pain during the birth of Jesus, she certainly suffered as she stood at the foot of the cross, united with her Son in his work of bringing eternal life into the world. Calvary was her labor. As his mother, her “yes” opened her up in a unique way to the pain and suffering that was necessary for humanity to be redeemed. We can look to her as we share a piece of that in our pregnancies, births, and the rest of motherhood.

There is a beautiful sculpture of Mary in the Church of Saint Augustine in Rome called Our Lady of Childbirth. Beneath the statue are hundreds of pictures, testimonies, and offerings of thanksgiving from mothers who prayed there for healthy pregnancies and births. For centuries women have begged intercession from Mary under this title for healing of infertility, for help in pregnancy, and for healthy and even happy deliveries. This devotion is a tremendous witness to the importance and beauty of a woman’s experience of birth — and heaven’s concern for it. Not only should we pray for a healthy birth, but we are invited to ask that it be a “happy” one.

As a mother herself, Our Lady surely experienced profound joy, power, intimacy with the Trinity, and perhaps even ecstasy during her own childbearing, though her outside circumstances were far less than ideal. She offers us a share of her joy. Christ gave her to us, after all, and the Church declares that “she is a mother to us in the order of grace.”⁵¹ She is our heavenly mother, a good and devoted mother who wants the best for her daughters, and we can be assured that she desires and prays for us to have healthy, holy, and truly joyful births.

Our understanding of Mary as mother and the model for all women means that we can see in her an invitation to enter deeply into this time of pregnancy and birth. She can be our guide, model, intercessor, and comfort as we bring these newest sons and daughters of God into the world. Many women find that their relationship with the Blessed Mother grows deeper during their pregnancies and as they enter into their roles as mothers. In her, we have not only the inspiration but the powerful prayers needed to become the mothers that God created us to be. And she can mother us as we mother our babies.

I was due with two of my children around Christmastime. It helped to picture Mary pregnant with Jesus, especially toward the end. When pregnant with my son, I was getting very close to my due date on Christmas Eve and VERY ready for labor. I went to Christmas Eve Mass and sat toward the front. My priest saw me and at the end of Mass he mentioned to the congregation that I still hadn’t had my baby. I responded, “I’m so glad I’m not riding on a donkey!” Mary trusted God so completely, not only to agree to give birth to God’s Son, but also to trust when she had to travel to Bethlehem and then give birth in a stable! It helped me to be grateful for my clean birth, doctor, doula, etc., and also helped me to feel calmer as I meditated on her trust.

— Amanda D., mom to four