My first labor lasted thirty-six hours. It was intense.
After arriving home and as we began to settle into life with a newborn, we were blessed with a meal train. I was so grateful to not have to cook my own food, but as people started showing up at our door with steaming Tupperware containers, I found myself hesitant to have visitors, sending my husband to receive them at our door.
After all, my whole life had just been turned upside down, as I faced the biggest challenge—physically, spiritually, emotionally, and mentally—of my entire life. After giving birth, I had no idea what was happening in my body, I was majorly sleep-deprived, and everything was sore and raw, literally and figuratively.
While everyone understood and still delivered us food, that feeling of being exposed during those early days of my motherhood has never really left me. Birth is sacred and holy ground, an intimate reality where everyone’s comfort levels are different. For me, I was very aware of whom I wanted to let into that space to care for me.
Sacred Vulnerability
Today, as we celebrate the Nativity of John the Baptist, I think about who Saint Elizabeth invited into that sacred space. Did Mary stay with her until Saint John was born? How did Mary manage the flow of visitors, the other women in their community who wanted to help? After all, Saint John the Baptist’s birth wasn’t ordinary. Nothing about his story was. It’s safe to say he was a miraculous child.
A Child of Promise
John the Baptist is the only Saint in the liturgical calendar who has two separate feast days—one in honor of his birth and one to commemorate his death. This shows us the forerunner’s importance. After all, Jesus Himself said, “among those born of women there has risen no one greater than John the Baptist” (Matthew 11:11).
In the first chapter of Luke’s Gospel, we read how the angel Gabriel visits the priest, Zechariah, announcing that his wife Elizabeth would soon give birth to a son. Zechariah questions the angel and doubts his message, because he believes he and Elizabeth are too old to have a child. Because of his lack of faith, Zechariah is punished with the loss of his ability to speak. Similarly, Mary, during the Annunciation, is informed by Gabriel that her cousin Elizabeth has miraculously conceived a child in her old age. She accepts this news with openness and believes “with God nothing will be impossible” (Luke 1:37).
The same announcement, but notice the different responses.
Ultimately, John the Baptist was brought into existence by the hand of God in a miraculous fashion.
The narrative in Luke’s Gospel picks up after John’s birth, recounting the restoration of Zechariah’s speech when he proclaims, in written form, that he is naming the child John. Zechariah prophesies regarding his child, and both parents praise God for the gift they have been given (see Luke 1:57-80).
Remaining With Elizabeth
Surprisingly, for an event that warrants its own feast day, very little is actually said about John’s birth: “Now the time came for Elizabeth to give birth, and she bore a son” (Luke 1:57).
That’s it?
While we now know John the Baptist’s conception and birth were miraculous, Luke spares us the details of the actual event. And yet, perhaps not all of the details.
In the verses immediately preceding the birth announcement, we read “And Mary remained with her about three months and then returned to her home” (Luke 1:56). Could it be that Mary stayed with Elizabeth through the time of John’s birth? After all, it was the cultural custom at the time for a woman in labor to be attended to by her female relatives. Thus, Mary could have been present to Elizabeth during her labor and delivery.
Shared Intimacy
Birth is an extremely vulnerable reality for a woman. It is a bearing of literally everything, when your best and your worst are exposed for yourself and those around you. My experiences of birth have brought the depths of desolation and challenge, while also giving me a taste of the thinnest veil between Heaven and Earth. The experience of giving birth is vitally significant in the life of a woman.
While the Church has never officially declared whether or not Mary was present at John the Baptist’s birth, there is ample room for meditating on the possibility that she was.
Imagine Elizabeth, an older woman, being exposed in the ways required at childbirth and being served by her young, inexperienced cousin Mary. What does this say about the nature of their relationship, their sisterhood? This suggests a profound and unforgettable experience of bonding shared between the two of them. For Mary to be present during Elizabeth’s labor and delivery offers us a powerful example of presence and sisterhood in the height of vulnerability.
Showing Up for One Another
This serves as a beautiful reflection for us, because isn’t this what all of us are called to do for one another? While we may not be called to be physically present at the birth of another woman’s child, we are called to support our sisters through their challenges. How many of us have friends who desperately need our presence in their time of vulnerability? How many of us are being called to love, support, and encourage our sisters in difficult seasons?
Similarly, we are invited to trust our sisters enough to break through inauthentic and shallow interactions and trust our most faithful and steady friends, so we do not find ourselves stuck in a relationship rut that never brings true life.
If I had stayed sequestered away in those days and weeks following my eldest’s birth, I would have eventually hit an even greater pit of darkness and isolation. The devil always wants us to be isolated in our challenges. He thrives when we do not bring things into the light. Thankfully, I had a few well-trusted friends who gently started knocking down my walls, inviting me to share, giving me space to feel comfortable, free, and seen. I am beyond grateful for their presence then and their continued presence in my hard moments now.
The Nativity of John the Baptist is not only a miracle that paved the way for the arrival of our Savior. It is also a beautiful example of valiant sisterhood, the type of sisterhood that isn’t afraid to step into the messiness of each other’s lives, and to see, know, and love one another in the midst of it. May Elizabeth and Mary give us the courage to be open to this type of friendship with the sisters God places in our lives.
