On birthing and dying

I wrote this article the week after my son was born. Desiring God was gracious enough to publish it last week. You can read it here or below. Last month I gave birth to my third child. It was the painful peeling back of twenty-first century comforts that labor always is. Agonizing, and undignified: my life suddenly interrupted by invasive procedures, my mind rolling from the shock of natural processes — writhing and shivering — to the mental disconnect of medicalized interventions. Labor in the West today is an odd coupling. Our most ancient, primal processes stitched awkwardly together with state-of-the-art technology. I was not having a “natural birth,” and yet much of what happened was