Coming into a body is inherently sacrificial, as our soul experiences itself as 'less than' it was, reduced from 'perfect origin' state to one limited and 'bound'. And Virgo owns this process of 'weaving Spirit into Form'.
Like a cosmic tailor in the fitting room of life, Virgo does her best to fit God into the finely woven casing of a meat suit. I can just hear her, kvetching.
"Oy! It’s tight in there!!! Oy! It's so HOT! Oy! It's smelly!!!"
(Though I have a theory that Virgos themselves do not smell. I've yet to proven wrong.)