Henry's Christmas books are in a basket on our coffee table.
We have a nice variety:
board books about Santa and Christmas traditions,
long story books about the importance of family during the holiday season,
a beautifully illustrated book about the Christmas star,
and of course, several books about the nativity and the birth of baby Jesus.
Henry loves babies so he is naturally drawn to the nativity story.
We talk about how baby Jesus was in his mama's belly just like Liza was in my belly.
Mary was his mama and Joseph was his dada but he was God's son.
I explain the story of Christmas in terms that Henry understands.
He nods and says "yeah, a baby".
We finish reading the book on hand and move on to Henry's next whim.
But, I am always left with Mary on my mind.
Was Joseph really the only person there or did he ask the innkeeper to find a midwife to help Mary?
Did that long donkey ride turn Jesus towards her back or was he in optimal position for birth?
Had Mary attended other births and therefore knew what to expect during childbirth?
Was her labor and delivery short and intense or long and drawn out?
Was transition as painful for Mary as it was for me?
Did Jesus latch on her breast perfectly the first time?
Did she experience breastfeeding issues and have to consult women in her community for support and help?
Did Mary use diapers, elimination communication or a combination of both?
Did she wear Jesus as an infant and toddler?
Mary was a mother.
And, Jesus was her baby.
It's easy for me to understand.