A Freebirth Nativity

Mary paused again as the back ache which had been plaguing her for the last few hours gripped her, causing her to grasp onto the donkey’s pack as she walked alongside. She looked up as the sensation passed and saw the outline of the town up ahead and sighed inwardly in relief, careful not to let Joseph hear her. He had been so kind and gentle with her since this whole thing had started and though she felt sure that he would continue to stand by her, she worried that it wouldn’t take much for him to take the advice of all their friends and family and reject her completely.

He didn’t talk about it but she knew that the community was confused by his determination to stand by his pregnant bride to be. Many of his family could barely look him in the face and business had fallen recently, he was a skilled carpenter, taking pride in carrying on the family business, but he didn’t seem to waver. There were the faithful few though who seemed to trust his judgement however and while they didn’t exactly welcome Mary unreservedly, it was better than the treatment she was receiving from the women in the community.

She was thankful for the support and belief her cousin Elizabeth had in her but the reaction from the women in her hometown was as hurtful as it was expected. In the usual course of events the women would have rallied round her, coaching her in the ways of baby birthing as her time drew closer. Instead all she had was the limited knowledge she had from her older sisters who married and birthed in recent years. As time had gone on she was almost relieved to be leaving her hometown, to be away from judging eyes, to be seen from the outside as simply a new mother to be, rather than a social and religious pariah, at the mercy of her fiancé.

Mary kept putting one foot in front of the other, realising now that the back ache was coming in waves and it seemed likely that the baby might make an appearance soon. She felt a rush of anxiety and her stomach tumbled. She knew instinctively that she shouldn’t be alone and here on this trail with Joseph she felt so very alone.

Joseph looked at Mary with a worried expression, his own experience in birth also limited. He knew he had to get somewhere for her to rest but it was a busy time of year with the census and he had no family in Bethlehem to stay with. They reached the town finally, Mary was now stopping every few minutes or so, Joseph could see she was trying to be quiet and calm, he knew it was for his benefit but didn’t know how to explain to her that he was in this for the long haul and how much he admired her strength and faith that it was all in hand.

He knocked at the first Inn and received short thrift from the innkeeper who was booked to the rafters. The pattern continued and Joseph started to despair until finally as they were walking away from an inn on the outskirts of town, the innkeeper came after them. He saw that Mary was in labour and took pity on her – she seemed young and afraid and he remembered his own wife’s first birth. He explained he had an outbuilding that Mary and Joseph were welcome to use and they gratefully accepted, Mary sinking to her knees in the straw as the door closed behind them.

The pain was pouring over her now and Joseph knelt by her side feeling helpless. He offered her some water as she caught her breath between the pains. Sometimes she seemed to doze off and then after a while she started to pace up and down, leaning on the post as she worked hard through her contractions, lost now to everything apart from the sensations in her body. When she was in the throes of a particularly strong one she felt something start to trickle down her leg and she looked down, mortified and embarrassed suddenly as the fluid pooled by her feet. She looked at Joseph and only saw mirrored confusion in his eyes. She had no time to think though as the feeling changed and she felt as if her whole body was surging downwards and she dropped to her knees again. With the change in feeling though came a quiet determination and calm. Joseph was looking at her and was startled to see a small smile on her face as the confusion passed and she realised exactly what she needed to do now as her body told her in no uncertain terms that now was the time.

Mary started to push and bear downward, Joseph mesmerised by the sounds she had started to make, the animals shuffling uncertainly in their stalls. As the baby descended Mary instinctively felt between her legs as Joseph respectfully turned his face away, not willing to leave but utterly out of his depth. “The baby is coming!” she breathed and with another heave and guttural growl Joseph looked where she was holding her robes and was shocked to see the baby’s head, dark hair swirling damply on its head, appear between her legs.

With another almighty push the rest of the baby slithered out with a gush of water and blood. Joseph leaned over instinctively towards the baby at the same time as Mary and their hands grasped the slippery baby together. He looked at her, her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat, a flush on her face and then looked at the baby as it started to cry and was suddenly overwhelmed by the enormity of this extraordinary scene unfolding in front of him. He rushed to the bags and pulled out the linen cloths Mary had packed for the baby and wrapped them both together though the night was warm, feeling he had to do something.

Mary looked at the little boy’s face and felt his hands and then realised he seemed to be attached to her womanly parts by a sort of soft rope. She didn’t know what to do and was too tired to think about anything further than this warm tiny body in her arms. She knew he needed milk, having seen many babies feeding at their mothers breast and so offered her own to her new son. Time passed and as he sucked she felt another wave and briefly panicked that it was starting again as she felt another gush between her legs and then the urge to push. Joseph looked on alarmed, as at the end of the baby’s rope appeared a large fleshy red lump. Mary had an enormous feeling of relief, it seemed to be over. The baby continued to feed and Joseph sat and watched after he had pulled away the bloody straw and replaced it with fresh.

The baby finally slept and Mary looked shattered. Joseph persuaded her to eat a little bread and between them they tucked up both the baby boy and the strange red bag he was attached to, into the manger which he had dragged away from the stall. Mary lay beside the baby with her hand over him, her eyes heavy with tiredness but reluctant to sleep for fear of missing even a moment looking at her sweet boy’s face. Joseph thought about what to do next. There was so much they didn’t know and perhaps in this new town where they were unknown they could get some help for Mary, not least of all what to do with the afterbirth.

Finally all three were asleep, visions and hopes swimming around their heads, questions yet to be answered, prophesy waiting to be proven. And at the heart of it all, new life, slippery warm babies demonstrating hope and the beginning of dreams, the making of parents and the creation of family.

Happy Christmas.