At a recent family reunion, it was determined that my maternal grandmother was pregnant off-and-on for 25 years!! Seriously.... Her first child was born in 1901 and her last in 1926; eleven kids total of which 9 lived into adulthood. Personally, as the yongest grandchild and having benefited from this quarter century of birthings, I think that at around circa 1910 I would've strongly encouraged that Ira find a nice room in the barn.
I never saw myself as having children, never had a desire to and never, no not once, played with baby dolls imagining myself a mom. (Side note, the baby doll that would wet itself was a most bizarre conecept. Please tell me that was soon realized by the manufacturer and said doll has ceased to be made.) My father's sister, dear Aunt Eleanor, would visit each Christmas season and while my brothers were gifted footballs and baseball gloves and cool board games that involved sports, I received .... a baby doll. Sigh. These were serious dolls, too, I'm not talking the not-even-close-to-being-anatomically-accurate Barbies, I mean dolls that were two-feet high, dressed in finery baby dolls. Did nothing for me. I was polite, said thank you and set the boxed baby doll aside and went to find my brothers to toss around the football.
It seems when one admits having no urge to be a mother, one must offer a defense which confesses one's love for children. I really like kids. I enjoy their energy, their real-ness, their imagination. I get aong splendidly with children and they with me in large part because I am like an over-sized Muppet, I have an expressive face, am loud and energetic.
Though never having personal experience, I have been around enough, talked to enough and listened to enough stories from pregnant women. From these conversations, I understand there is some degree of discomfort througfhout the entire process and the penultimate experience of birth pangs.
Now why all this talk about babies and birthing? No, this piece is not lead-in to some miracle announcement. It is a reflection of a moment of which we are each in the middle. I agree with Sister Joan Chittister, OSB, that the entire world is in a state of re-birth. Something new is being born in large part because it must; the destruction of the planet, the total upheaval and stark reveal wrought by the pandemic, and the world's oldest democracy on the brink....indeed, "a change is gonna' come."
In the United Methodist liturgy of the sacrament of baptism, it is an all play, every person in attendance makes a vow to support, raise-up, guide and surround the child presented to them with love and care.
In this new year when the world is in labor for all that is about to birthed, what will be our response? Over what and for whom will we agonize and bring through to birth and into life? What rights and opportunities will we push throguh and which possibilities and promises will we breathe into being?