Sacrificing oneself to bring forth new life sums up the life of anyone who follows Christ.
Somewhat earlier than planned, the lovely Kate, the Duchess of Cambridge, has announced her pregnancy with another prospective heir to the throne. The reason for the hasty tidings is that the same wretched “morning” sickness that marked her first pregnancy has now forced her to cancel many upcoming appearances.
I wonder if she feels the same way about pregnancy as I do. The truth is, I think it’s kind of awful. I mean, for a while it makes sense and it’s mostly cool—right up to that point when you realize (and you always do), that there is no magical way for that baby to leave your womb, that virgin birth is not even remotely possible. It’s either labor and delivery or someone is going to cut you open.
In the West we are mostly anesthetized to these realities, quite literally. And this is probably a good thing, because I am pretty sure we would have waited a very, very long time for a second baby had I not been promised it didn’t have to be that bad again. I thought I was going to die.
But it isn’t just labor and delivery that make pregnancy tough. The rest can be bad, too. And I earnestly mean that. Just ask Kate. I do know women who have tolerable and even enjoyable pregnancies. And I praise God for that. But I have not loved my pregnancies. I have mostly just wanted to survive them.
And all of this is something we don’t talk about very often. Perhaps because we worry that negative talk about pregnancy might drive more women to the abortion mills, or cede some line of victory to the feminists. Or perhaps we worry that it will undermine our efforts to defend the Church’s teaching on contraception. All of this would be understandable.
But the upshot of this reticence is that it’s the feminists who spend most of the time talking about the difficulties and dangers of pregnancy—no small irony, since the feminists of our generation tend to spend very little time pregnant.
But I think we should talk more about the negatives. Not to be dour, of course, but to help people understand the fundamental meaning of the Christian vocation, a message that is central to Mulieris Dignitatem and the Second Vatican Council. You just can’t advance these majestic teachings on a cartoon image of the pregnant woman that sweeps away hardships. People do not want to escape from sufferings. They want to know that their sufferings have meaning.
And what is the meaning of pregnancy and childbirth? The pregnant woman is a sign of contradiction—because pregnancy, which brings new life, cannot end without a laying down of life. The pregnant woman is also a sign of the Passion of Christ, most especially in the act of childbirth. And she is a sign of the fruitfulness of the Church, the Bride of Christ. Taken together, pregnancy is exactly a sign of what it is to be a Christian. And just like pregnancy—Christianity seems to make sense and be cool for a while at the beginning, right up to the point when you realize, and you always do, that running the race to the finish calls for laying down your life.
InMulieris Dignitatem (22), John Paul II reflects:
(Gal 4:19). In the First Letter to the Corinthians (7:38) Saint Paul proclaims the superiority of virginity over marriage, which is a constant teaching of the Church in accordance with the spirit of Christ’s words recorded in the Gospel of Matthew (19:10-12); he does so without in any way obscuring the importance of physical and spiritual motherhood. Indeed, in order to illustrate the Church’s fundamental mission, he finds nothing better than the reference to motherhood.
” (Emphasis mine.)
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