I have been thinking about birth a lot lately. It’s probably because I am about to give birth, and every time I try to look at the floor, I can’t see it because my belly is in the way. The computer I am typing on right now is balancing on my belly as well. I can feel Milam rolling around in my womb, punching my organs, and bringing on an uncomfortable but not painful tightness called Braxton Hicks contractions. Birth is all around me. Literally. All around my middle.

But I woke up this morning wondering if birth was a lot like death. I don’t mean this to be morbid, and I don’t want to taint the happy thoughts of a new life coming into the world with the sad thoughts of a life leaving the world, but I can’t help but wonder if they are similar experiences.

When you are first conceived, all you know is the warm, wet darkness of your mother’s womb. Gradually you start to catch fleeting glimpses of life outside of just the one you know, as your senses develop and you can hear and see. You don’t really know what the outside world is going to be like, because all you have experienced is muffled sounds of your mom and dad, music, cars honking, and dogs barking (in Milam’s case). But you know enough to know that there is something else out there. You can see the difference in light and dark, but you have never seen your mom and dad’s face. You don’t have a clue what a barking dog looks like. You don’t know about colors or shapes or anything like that. It’s just basically warm and wet and mostly dark and quiet.

I believe that unborn babies are smarter than most people give them credit for. I mean, they are probably not doing algebra in there, but I do think they have the ability to process information and form (albeit simple) opinons about what is going on. So I wonder if little babies in the womb ever ask themselves, in their own little baby way, “Is there life outside the womb?” or “Do mom and dad really exist, or am I making them up?” or “Is birth going to be scary? When will it happen?”. They have no real concept of what waits for them on the other side, or even if there is another side, until one day they are squeezed and pushed out, or someone comes and cuts a hole in the womb and pulls them out into the cold light.

Death is very similar, isn’t it? Think about it. Here we are, floating in the warm wetness of life on earth. Daily life is mostly the same old struggle to grow in the darkness. We grow and develop from babies who have no real concept of death or life after this life, into adults who start to think about it a little. We ask ourselves questions like “Is there life after death?” or “Does God really exist or am I making him up?” or “Is death going to be scary? When will it happen to me?” And just like babies, some of us grow into full term old men and women before moving on, and some of us will go prematurely. Some of us are pushed gently out while we are asleep, and some of us are cut out unexpectedly into the cold light.

And now, to get spiritual on you, some of us wonder if this dark wetness of life is all there is, and some of us believe in life after death. Some of us have heard the quiet, muffled sound of God’s voice in our ears, and some of just think they are imagining things. Some us know the difference when we see flashes of light and dark, and some of us don’t. Some of us are ready to move on into the full-spectrum, mindblowing light of heaven, and some of us don’t even know if it is really there. We are not sure about God just like babies are not sure about their Mom and Dad.

And all the while, Mom and Dad are preparing a place for us to live. They have parties, get doctor checkups and lovingly craft a nursery bed for us to rest in. They long for the day when they can hold our tiny helpless bodies and can kiss our sweet face. They can’t wait for us to see what life is like out here in the real world with them and for the experience of the womb to be completely forgotten.

I am going to go out on a limb here and say that the way I feel about my sweet baby boy coming into this world and the way I felt about Eloise coming into the world is the way that God feels about his children coming home. He knows that we have to spend time developing in the womb of life on earth. He thinks of us often, checks on us to make sure we are okay, speaks gently to us down here in the blackness, and longs for the day when He can look us in the eye and say, “Welcome home, my beloved one”. It is then we will see reality for what it is- the full spectrum of colors and shapes and love that we can’t know here on earth.

So and So the day is quickly approaching when I will get to hold my sweet baby boy for the first time. I will get to introduce him to his sister and his dad and the life that we have lovingly made for him. I can’t wait to look him in the eye and say “Welcome home, my beloved. The time you spent in the womb was preparing you for life out here with us and we are so glad to have you. This is reality, and all of that darkness will quickly be forgotten.” And I hope it won’t be the last time he hears it.