"Miracle of Birth"

The photo was taken before our daughter's Christmas tree.

Sydney M. Williams

More Essays from Essex

“Miracle of Birth”

December 27, 2025

 

“History isn’t just a passing of the torch or an accumulation

of wisdom. It should be a celebration of miracles.”

                                                                                                                                Leo Morris (1947-2023)

                                                                                                                                Commentary, December 8, 2021

 

For much of the past year I have been in a foul mood. It has had nothing to do with hearth, home, politics or the market. It is because, with the celebration of our nation’s semiquincentennial of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 2026, I decided to see if I could determine the names of all my antecedents going back to my fourth-great grandparents, those who would have been alive during the American Revolution[1]. At least two of that generation fought for Independence – Jonathon Peele (1731-1809) of Salem, Massachusetts and William Sawyer (1749-1822) of Bolton, Massachusetts. I was able to come up with the names of my 64 four-great grandparents, but it was no easy task.

 

While I had a head start, in that my sister Betsy had done most of the work several years ago, I still had to research dusty genealogies, search the internet, check the spelling of names and confirm dates. The job was laborious, hard on the eyes and tiring to what little brain I have left. I am happy not to be British and have to go back to the Magna Carta.

 

But as I was coming up with the 126 names that preceded me (going back those six generation), I marveled at the odds of ever being born – the right people meeting and getting married, the date and time of conception, and the race between millions of sperm to fertilize a specific egg – the latter reminding me of the 1972 Woody Allen movie, Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex, especially the sequence where he plays a sperm racing to reach the egg.

 

According to a search on Google, the odds of anyone being born are “astronomically low, estimated at around one in 400 trillion.”  For me, for example, if Anna Pope had not married Benjamin Williams on September 20, 1745 in Taunton, Massachusetts, if Noah Webster had not married Rebecca Greenleaf on October 26, 1789 in Boston, or if Obadiah Hotchkiss had not married Mercy Perkins on November 15, 1758 in New Haven, I would not be here, nor would any of my children or grandchildren. Keep in mind, when considering the miracle of life our genetic makeup goes back to when life first began.

 

The conclusion: we are fortunate to be here. We should never take life for granted. We should do our utmost to live respectful and honorable lives, thankful for what was gifted us and to recognize how blessed we are to be alive. Births are, indeed, miracles, and now my mood has improved. So, as you ring in the New Year give a toast – silent perhaps – to your ancestors, to all those who made your life possible.

 

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[1] Two of my 64 four-great grandparents died before or during the Revolution – Rebekah (Minot) Prescott in 1761 and Elizabeth (Ruggles) Chandler in 1774. For two, Peter Kemp and Betty (Daniel) Kemp, I was unable to find dates, apart from the fact they were married on July 26, 1770 in Middlesex County, Virginia. And two were born and died in Ireland.