My Body

This is my body, given up for you. 

I’ve reflected much on Christ’s words throughout my pregnancy. I do not recognize this rotund belly, cute perhaps but often in the way, which has rejected my once-comfortable jeans. I have no say over what position my child takes in my womb, whether that be jabbing an elbow into my belly button or otherwise. What nutrients may be lacking in my diet—but are required for this little growing person’s development—are drawn from my own body’s reserves.

And I wouldn’t change it. I love being pregnant. My body, slowly transforming throughout these nine months, is a testament to love.

Recently it struck me that, once I have delivered this baby, our relationship will take on a new form, for no longer will my body be my child’s home. I will be empty—and yet full of love, I know. My body will again be my own—and yet not, as I continue to nourish my child, only now with milk I myself produce, and lend my arms for innumerable cuddles. We will be physically unattached—and yet more attached than ever, heart to heart. I will miss these days in which my child is ever close, indeed within me—and yet I look forward to the days when my child will come to me of its own choosing.

And so it is with our relationship to Christ. He gave up His body for us on Calvary—and continues to give up His Body in the Eucharist. But like a child no longer within its mother’s womb, we must choose to come to Him. And like the mother who gives endlessly—but with a joy understandable only to herself—Christ never ceases to offer us nourishment, His love.

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