A Grieving Doula on Christmas Eve

It’s Christmas Eve and as a doula I cant stop thinking about Mary. Imagine her nearly due with her first baby and still journeying from her hometown to Bethlehem. She is with a man who she is supposed to marry and yet pregnant with the Son of God. From most historical accounts, Mary is still a teenager. Regardless of age though, she is about to be a new mom – a mom to the baby that will save the world. Here she is on Christmas Eve on a donkey, barely eating a thing, entering a strange city with no midwife, family, or friends to be seen.

Contractions begin and Mary knows her baby is coming soon. All they can find is a small barn behind an inn. Another contraction rolls in reminding Mary of the need to make her space ready to greet her son. For those moments I imagine she’s forgotten that her son will save the world. This is just her son. Her baby is that inside her contracting uterus, longing to make his way earth side. If I were there beside her, I’d encourage her that she is close, that she can do this and that she’ll be holding her baby soon. I don’t know what Joseph said to her that night but if he stayed by her side as she worked through her labor, I imagine he’d be the kind of man to say just those encouraging things.

As the night moves along, so does Mary’s labor. Jesus is coming soon. With each contraction, he makes his way down and Mary knows she does not have long. Joseph moves some hay to make Mary a softer place to birth. The animals are all quiet. They are the ones holding the space for Mary giving her the peace she needs to calm her fears as Jesus is crowing. Mary finds the strength within her to give into the pressure and welcome her firstborn. Joseph removes his outer garments and finds a soft inner layer that he can cover the baby on Mary’s exhausted chest. He’s here – Mary’s baby, Joseph’s first son, God in human form.

As I think of Mary this Christmas Eve, my heart is heavy for her. She and her fiancé travel a long distance to give birth in a stable without any assistance. She contracts minutes after minutes, suffering through pain for a child she yet to understands how much she will love and yet how much his love for her and us all will change the world. I wish I could have been with her to give her water, to support her back, to reassure her that it will all be ok. But, somehow I believe Mary must have known that it would be ok. When Mary learned of Jesus’s conception she pondered it in her heart, rejoicing and praising the Lord. I have to believe she felt that same assurance as she welcomed her baby boy into the world. Maybe she and Joseph were able to remember that Angel that told them to not be afraid of what would happen and to trust in what God had for them.

My heart is heavy this Christmas eve. I miss those who have gone before me and wonder when this laboring of grief will end. Christmas eve this year feels like a somber laboring of my emotions that I hope will be birthed into joy tomorrow. Today at lunch the song, “Where are you Christmas?” came on the radio. I was eating pizza at my in laws with my kids and extended family. And, right then, like a contraction you can’t control, it hit me. Grief. It folds you over like the stomach pain of a uterus clamping down and makes you stop. I can’t eat. I can’t drink. I can feel my face turning red and eyes watering up.

Usually I can take a deep breath and get it together but not today. The pain was too strong. It is that part in labor where you don’t’ care what sounds you make or what clothes you still do or don’t have on because you aren’t in control anymore.  Grief is like that. It enters your space with strong intensity and allows no warning for appropriate preparation. And, as I was weeping in the bathroom and practicing deep breathing techniques, there was her face. I thought of Mary again. Mary, grieving what her body was going through and the circumstances of her moment. Yet, she pushes through her pain and fear to greet her baby – the greatest joy she and the world would experience. How encouraging?! How beautiful?! She labored her way through the darkness of the night to bring us the Light of the World. I think of the way she had to rely on the truth of who she knew God to be and trust in the words of the angels. May I do the same. When the grief greets me with unexpected pain and exhausting power, I hope I will continue to remember Mary and the woman God chose to bring forth his son – the hope of tomorrow. My hope for tomorrow.