Originals

Why Virgin Mary Is Opting For a Natural Barn Birth

Lately, a lot of the other moms in Bethlehem have been giving me grief for my birth plan: natural, no doctors, and in a shack surrounded by barnyard animals. Yeah, I’m a crunchy virgin mom. You got a problem with it? I wear sandals and it’s not because I live in the desert. It’s dinnertime? Yeah, I’m making it from scratch–not because that’s the only option in 0.5 BC, but because I only eat whole, blessed foods and actually care about what’s going into my temple. I make my clothes and wash them in the river not because I only own and can only afford one garment but because it’s the sustainable option. At the end of the day, I’m doing what’s right for me and my little savior of the world.

Everyone is saying “Virgin, why won’t just let trained doctors who have spent years delivering babies handle this?” I don’t know any “doctors,” and those who claim to “heal” are just a bunch of witches. You people would believe anything some guy tells you or read from some old book, let’s be honest. What good do these “doctors” do anyway? My girlfriend Huldah told me at wine night that her doctor prescribed her pounded maidenhair fern when she had the runs after eating Ole Taco Bell!  All these doctors want is your shekels and stones so they can waste it on things like “bread” and “medicine.” Regardless, it seems like no one around here lives past 33, so can they even finish their residency? I question how much experience these witch doctors have delivering the son of God. Besides, Jesus is my health insurance, so I’m covered.

A lot of thought and consideration went into my decision. But when Joseph, God, and I all sat down to talk about my birth plan, an unsanitary barn was a no-brainer. Like, am I comfortable there? I can be. Women have given birth in barns for thousands of years and have often died in childbirth. And why be bogged down with an insane two-shekel hospital bill when I can give birth for free? Listen, I’m the wife of a dirt-poor carpenter. I may be the mother of God, but I don’t want to starve!

And where do these choices stem from? From the fact that women are tough. If I can be publicly stoned for showing ankle on Wednesday and branded with the word “whore” on Friday, then surely I can survive an unmedicated birth this holiday season–what? Not everyone’s a Christian! But the fact of the matter is, ladies, do you want to be a stonemason? Go do it! Dream of fighting in a holy war? I say why not! Is your deepest desire to lead a virgin sacrifice? Yas, queen! Women can do anything that men can do.



I plan on being very, very choosy about what comes into contact with my newborn once he’s here with us earthside. What’s on my baby registry? All organic gold. All organic frankincense. And you got it, all organic myrrh. I’ll also be taking Jesus’s schooling into my own hands. I’d rather provide my own enrichment and education for Him. I mean, I am 15 now! I know everything I’ll ever know at my experienced age. I will also refuse to soothe him by putting Miss Rachel, wife of Jacob on my iPapyrus. No papyrus or scroll time for my baby, only sensory play with rocks and sticks for little JeJe. Stare all you want, Ruth, but I don’t care what you think. Have fun trying to reverse the effects of your baby doom scrolling on your iPapyrus when little Josiah gets to his terrible twos!

So say what you want to say about me and my baby savior. But a natural barn birth is as natural as a Virgin giving birth to the Messiah. Haters going to hate, sinners going to sin. But I promise the moment it happens, will be the most beautiful, manure-smelling, painful thing I’ve ever experienced and you’ll be sorry you doubted me.