Why I think God allowed childbirth to be cursed

My Bradley Method class taught me that the first stage of labor is excitement. But when I went into labor, I was immediately triggered. It was like PTSD. I thought labor was supposed to feel like muscles working, but the first thing I felt was exactly like the four miscarriages I went through. My water had broken, so there was cramping and bleeding. In my experience, those lead to death and loss. 

Adrenaline slows down the process of birth, so I had been taught to relax and breathe, but I wasn’t prepared for that emotional blow of remembering all the miscarriages. I think the first 24 hours of my 36 hour labor were mostly spent trying to come down from that and trust that this time we would end up with a baby. And in the end, we did. I rejoice that God used this birth experience to redeem the feelings of cramping and bleeding for me–  this time, they led to life, not to death. I was able to learn how to suffer with hope in this context, and hope did not disappoint me. 

Why did God allow childbirth to be affected by the curse? I’ll admit I’ve had some resentment about that along the way. When I was pregnant, I definitely asked God if he would just waive the suffering of labor for me somehow. 

The other day I was thinking about scripture while breastfeeding (because that’s the only time I stop to think about anything anymore) and this verse jumped out to me: 

We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.

Romans 8:22

In the past, I’ve always thought of that verse as a description of agony. Groaning in pain. But this time it suddenly occurred to me: that type of groaning is full of purpose and hope. Indeed, the context of this verse is all about hope! Suffering for glory; eager expectation; hope of liberation, redemption, salvation.

The groaning of childbirth is the best possible illustration of suffering with hope. And now I have a theory. Maybe the reason God included childbirth in the curse is because now, outside the garden, in this Plan B world where we await a savior to bring us back to peace with God…  maybe we would need a clear illustration of suffering with hope. 

Jesus suffered with hope. Romans 8 is all about suffering with hope. And childbirth is about suffering with hope. It’s not comfortable, but it’s so totally worth it. Maybe childbirth was meant to be an enduring picture, one that every generation and every family could see, of what it looks like to make a choice to lean into discomfort for the sake of a future reward. In birth, that reward comes immediately. In a life following Jesus, we are also called to suffer, and the reward is farther off and harder to see. But it’s the same idea. 

When I was in labor, I tried very hard not to think of contractions as painful. They’re not comfortable, but I normally think of pain as a physical signal that I’m getting damaged–  that there will be tissue damage if I keep doing whatever it is I’m doing. It’s my body’s way of protecting itself. Pain is a warning of cell death. Labor was different. My brain wasn’t getting signals about death. It was telling me to move, to change positions, to breathe… but not to stop doing what I was doing. 

Maybe our suffering in life is meant to be like that. Whatever we go through for Jesus’s sake, we can think of it differently from pain because it carries hope of redemption and glory. It doesn’t lead to death; it leads to life everlasting. Life apart from Jesus is like a miscarriage. But life following Jesus is like labor pains. 

Here’s another interesting thing. God designed the pain of childbirth to fade away with time, to the point that we mostly forget it. The hormones of breastfeeding actually erase the memories of labor. (I didn’t believe that could be true until it happened to me, against my will! I really did try to remember!) Is it possible God meant that as a hint that the pain we endure in life will also fade away once we get to glory? Maybe it’s not just true that he wipes away every tear, but also that we can’t even remember our earthly suffering from that perspective if we try. 

After all, Paul says:

I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.

Romans 8:18

Here’s one caveat as I close: This whole blog might not be my original idea. It’s probably in Labor with Hope or some other such book that I read when I had preggo-brain. I can’t remember. It has all been lost to mom brain (or maybe I should say, to the amnesia of glory).

Published by Hannah Frost

I'm a 30-something who suddenly ended up married and living in Texas. Before that I had been single and overseas doing mission work for about a decade, so it was a shock. I blog to process and reflect.

Join the Conversation

1 Comment

What do you think?

  1. I loved this. Pain full of purpose and hope. Although, I have to say… I have clear memories of how painful both my unmedicated labors were, despite breastfeeding both kids. I remember clearly being in the middle of birthing the first time and thinking, this is painful but it’s still only about 90% of the worst physical pain I’ve been through. And there was a whole team trying to bring the painful episode to an end… that made things so much better. it was so much better to endure pain while being offered encouragement and emotional support.