Rambing thoughts on Labor & the Goddess.

Waxing Blood Moon (Age: 6 days)
Moon Sign: Sagittarius
Weather: Cool, cloudy & rainy
As I sit here in the grips of discomfort due to premenstrual cramps, I find myself reminded of labor. Labor was terribly uncomfortable but the part that was the worst was the intense distress that I felt over possibly being viewed as a coward. With each contraction, I grew more upset until I was near tears when my time to go in for the c-section came up. As the anesthesiologist was giving me the spinal block, I couldn't help crying out with fear.

I look back on that moment and I feel such a surge of pity for myself in that time. I was so wrapped up in the terror that I would be judged and found lacking. I had been struggling with depression, as I have been recently, and the night before I had argued with my husband. It came together with the wild ride of hormonal changes to create a very different situation then when my first child was born. It makes me sad that the birth of my second child was filled with such distress where as the birth of my first was a much happier event.

I find myself wondering, has the Goddess felt such fear when her time came upon her? I look at the world at large and consider the struggles of mothers to birth their children, of any species, and that question returns to me again and again. Maiden horses (mares that are birthing their first foal) require careful monitoring and soothing to help them through the experience when not in the wild. In the wild, I am sure that there are mares and foals lost due to complications that come from the distress of the mare and subsequent physical difficulties. I suspect that the same need for care and soothing would be found through out all other species in the event of the first birth, if not subsequent birthings. (I would be inclined to consider the laying of eggs as a form of birthing, given the strain it places upon the body.)

I suppose one must conclude that somewhere in the mythology of the Goddess, there is a story of her suffering in labor. Is it egocentric of me to feel compassion, if not a touch of pity, for the Lady herself? It is much like when I was contemplating Catholicism and my mind continually returned to the Passion of Christ, filling me with pity and sorrow for the suffering of Jesus. So many Christians that I know speak of the Passion (a Latin word for suffering) as a glorious triumph and remove the very real misery and terror from the event.

If Jesus was in sufficient terror to beg God the Father to alleviate his suffering, if at all possible, then wouldn't Christians recollect this? The events in the garden of Gethsemane are clearly an example of the very human experience of fear in the face of travail, in my opinion. Wiccan theology is not so very different from Christian at times. The suffering of the Goddess in labor and the suffering of the Harvest God could be argued to be in some ways parallel to the suffering of Jesus.

In all three cases, there is suffering of the flesh, the mind, and arguably the spirit. The flesh suffering pain and in two cases death are much like the suffering we endure in life. We have times where we experience pain, at times such intense pain that we are unsure if we can bear it. This would be the suffering of the mind. The terror that comes attendant upon pain or the lack of surety that comes with it is something that all humanity can recognize. I suspect that the Goddess experiences some measure of the fear that all mothers have at the time of labor, fear that their child or possibly themselves will not survive it.

For some, I am sure that fear is a brief experience. I don't think that it is all consuming but I suspect it does rear its head for all women who are birthing their first or subsequent children. I know that it laid its cold hand upon my shoulder at the time of birthing both my children, even though the experiences were as different as night and day. The suffering of the spirit is something akin to the suffering of the mind, I think. I could, however, be entirely wrong.

I had something I wanted to say but it just vanished from my thoughts after my eldest distracted me. Such is life, I suppose.

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