Taking Stock: A Resurrection and a Birth
Easter Sermon
In the first week of March, at the crack of dawn, our son made his entrance into the world. He was 8 lbs, 3 oz, and 20 1/4 inches long. He was born at home, as planned, after exactly 24 hours of labor. Our birth team was amazing and included our midwife Deanna, our doula Jessica, our midwife’s assistant Tina, and midwifery student Marty. Grandparents Susan and Wayne Jonas, were also present with Grandpa offering pain management in the form of acupuncture and homeopathic remedies throughout the day and night.
Of course, Kevin was my true rock, he never left my side for 24 hours – except right at the beginning, per my request, in order to run out for flowers for our altar (and also ended up bringing back 6 cases of vitamin water and a family size pack of orange Tic Tacs, for reasons he still cannot explain). The flowers were beautiful and sat on our birthing altar along with pictures from our ultrasound, sage and incense to cleanse the space, essential oils such as lavender and clary sage, and three beautiful singing bowls tuned to resonate with the sacral, heart, and crown chakras, which were played throughout the laboring process. Our house was a sanctuary of calm and peace, complete with a birthing tub in our living room – in which I mostly labored – and a birthing stool in our bedroom, where we eventually gave birth, just as the sun rose through the window behind us.
Labor was long and hard. As much as we had hoped for and read about “hypnobirthing” and “breathing our baby into the world” – baby was decidedly face up the entire time, seemingly unwilling, or unable, to turn into the proper position. And so, I had the honor of being one of the few women in the world who undergo “back labor,” an experience that went entirely unexplained in the 25+ books I read to prepare for the birthing process. (Let’s just say, I now believe this is why epidurals were invented.) But of course, we were having a home birth – no medications, no interventions – and so I labored on.
Some of my loved ones and friends have since asked me, “Why would you want to give birth at home?” Beyond wanting to limit our baby’s exposure to unnecessary medications, and wishing for as natural a process as possible, the truth is neither Kevin nor I are particularly anti-medicine and we both agreed that if at any point I wanted to transfer to a hospital, we could do so immediately (we even toured two different hospitals in preparation for such a transfer, should one become necessary either for my comfort, or God-forbid, in an emergency).
However, the real answer as to “why a home birth?” is much more simple: I wanted to know that I could do it (and I found out I can)! More precisely, I wanted to feel the full experience of what my body can do. Leading up to the birth, I joked with Kevin that I wanted our birth to be a return to the way women gave birth for thousands of years, before modern interventions, because if the apocalypse comes I want to be prepared to do it myself. I had no idea how real this joke would become just a short time later as more and more women are now scrambling to plan home births in light of the current pandemic.
Just as my pregnancy was not easy and full of some of the strangest side effects imaginable including: terrible morning sickness, narcoleptic-level exhaustion, a granuloma growth on my eyelid from the hormones, pregnancy-induced vestibular migraines causing vertigo, and oh, did I mention, turning the toilet seat blue! (An actual pregnancy symptom – seriously, look it up!) Through all of it, I was grateful that I got to experience pregnancy to the fullest. Even during the insomnia, mood swings, and aches and pains, I was grateful for my body and its inexplicable ability to grow a human – something, while ordinary, I now think of as the most miraculous part of the human experience.
And so, there we were, at home laboring and pushing, willing this new being into the world. Until suddenly, there he was! Just when I thought the labor would never end, and that this would be my new reality: pushing through waves of contractions until either I died, or the world came to an end… just then, out he came in one fast motion, his eyes fully open, looking directly at me. Our midwife caught him, brought him up to my chest, and with Kevin’s arms wrapped around us both, we leaned back and in an instant our family of two became three.
His name, Bodhi is the Sanskrit word meaning “Awakened One” – it is the same root as the title given to the Buddha, and it is the name of the tree under which the Buddha attained enlightenment. Our Bodhi called to us from the cosmos, wanting to be born. And like a true Taylor he arrived right on time (meaning two days early!) so we know he is Kevin’s son – everyone else assumed he would be on Jonas time (meaning one week late). And thank God he came when he did, because Saturday, March 7, 2020 turns out to be somewhat of a turning point in history.
By Monday, March 9th many of the schools and businesses in Baltimore had instructed non-essential employees to work from home. By Wednesday, the World Heath Organization officially declares the Coronavirus a pandemic and my work had cancelled all classes and events, sending students home for there rest of the semester. By Friday a state of emergency was declared in the US and a week later, all non-essential business in Maryland had been shut down by executive order, and soon after that all gatherings larger than of 250, then 50, then 10 were banned. At this point, our governor has issued a stay-at-home order and we are in an unprecedented time of “social distancing.” Everything has been cancel or moved online, and even our doctor’s appointments have been limited.
What a way to enter the world. It feels as if, at least from our perspective, Bodhi came into the world and immediately demanded that everything stop, that we take a month or two to pause, and that we take stock of what we have (both materially, and emotionally) and of what is most precious to us. We are being called into the present moment unlike any other time in history – except perhaps during the time of the Buddha, for legend has it that at the time following his enlightenment, those who met him instantly attained the same just by being in his presence. Those who came across the Buddha were so drawn to his teachings and his way of being in the world that they could not help but leave everything behind and join his movement. Much like Jesus, his presence and calm was so intoxicating that folks were compelled to change their whole lives.
And of course, this is what it feels like to us to meet Bodhi. He commands our attention, forces us to be in the present moment, and draws us in with a love that is unlike any we have felt before. It is a life-altering experience I am sure shared by most parents, but it feels particularly powerful at this time because the whole world seems to be stopping as well. We are all taking stock of what matters, and for us, what matters is our new family.
This week is known as Holy Week in the Christian tradition, a time when we reflect on the events leading up to Jesus’ death and resurrection on Easter Sunday. This week also starts the beginning of Passover in the Jewish tradition. Despite being the most sacred time in the religious calendar, all over the world churches and synagogues have shut their doors to the public in order to try and contain the virus and prevent further spread of the pandemic. This plague upon the world is so pervasive it could only be described as Biblical.
And while many will mourn the loss of being able to gather as a community during these Holy days, I am struck by how much more connected the world actually seems to be. Never before have I voluntarily tuned in to a worship service from my living room, or spoken to my entire extended family over video at one time, or even had the forethought to join a group of friends in meditating at the same time, just because we could.
It strikes me as profound that all of these opportunities for connection have always open to us, and perhaps controversially, I don’t believe it is being forced to stay at home that has freed up our time to connect, for truthfully, the time was always there if we had made room for it. Rather, I believe it was being forced to reflect on what’s important, on who we wish to be with and check-in on, and in how we want to respond in a time of fear and uncertainty, that brought us all online and ultimately closer together.
At a time when I was prepared to be mostly alone on maternity leave, “in confinement” and likely fielding only a few text here-and-there from friends saying, “let me know if you need anything,” instead I have been more connected than I ever thought I would be with video calls and close connections reaching out and wanting to meet our new addition. We have all been forced to stop and listen to what matters, and sometimes what matters is as simple as one more soul choosing to join this complicated world.
Just as the Crucifixion is made meaningful in the Resurrection, I trust that we too are in the midst of the unknown – awaiting the meaning of this crisis that has yet to be revealed. The followers of Jesus had three days to mourn, reflect, and take stock of what really mattered to them. And like them, “it does not yet appear what we shall be,” but I have faith that whatever comes next will be entirely, unpredictably, and inevitably transformational. Or, as we say in our family, there is only Before Bodhi and After Bodhi. Welcome to our world.
Alleluia! Alleluia! and Amen.
