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The gospels tell us nothing about Mary's pregnancy except for its very beginning and its end. But without straying into pious fantasy or fiction, and since nothing indicates that hers was in any way not a normal pregnancy, it's not inappropriate to meditate on the not-so-simple truth of the Word made Flesh growing among us.
Growing in Mary’s body, a body that changed like any woman’s during pregnancy. Her breasts grew heavier, the first visible sign of pregnancy as the body prepares to nourish a child. A slight thickening, a bump, a bulge, and then a firm, strong, weighty place, a home for the child, forming in warm darkness.
Slowly, the baby makes himself known directly. He flutters at first, like shy butterflies inside you, movement so slight and unexpected you are never sure if it is you or him. It is hard to tell the difference, hard to separate it out.
Then there is a kick. A definite kick.
Finally, near the end, when you are so heavy and there is just the thinnest, ever-tightening layer of skin and muscle between the baby and the rest of the world, there is no doubt that…
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