Advent.
December 12, 2023. Today I have really no words and at the same time words feel eager to spill out. On one hand there’s the “this would’ve been us” or “we would’ve been doing this” or “this should’ve been something we were preparing for.” The “could’ve beens” of today fill my mind and spirit while my body is still recovering from what actually was, what actually is, today. Usually, the Advent season brings a wave of energy and joy, as I reflect on specifically the women in the Christmas narrative who prepared and labored the way for the Christ child to be born. There is always something so rich about connecting with Elizabeth or Mary who were given such front and center roles, with their pregnancies and voices and wombs that carried the world’s salvation and liberation. After birthing my own son, I felt that our stories were inextricably linked– I had come to know the labor pangs of new life for myself. This year, as I greet a period instead of active labor, and take progesterone ins
