Exodus 2

And Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Go.” So the girl went and called the child’s mother. And Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Take this child away and nurse him for me, and I will give you your wages.” So the woman took the child and nursed him. – Exodus 2: 8-9

“Rejoice with Jerusalem . . that you may nurse and be satisfied from her consoling breast; that you may drink deeply with delight from her glorious abundance.” For thus says the Lord: “Behold, I will extend peace to her like a river. . . and you shall nurse . . as one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you.” – Isaiah 66

My tracking of the word “mother” in the Bible led me this week to the first direct description of breastfeeding.

I could write a book on breastfeeding. I think Lamott described it once as “the purest form of communication I know,” and that is what it is like. The joy and satisfaction I feel in knowing I have something of consolation to offer her is hard to describe. No matter what else is going on, no matter what just happened or where we are, she is consoled at my breast. This is something I offer her that no one else can. She closes her eyes and sucks peacefully, little hand curled up on my chest. It’s her favorite place to sleep.

One of the hardest things about going back to work is my determination to continue breastfeeding. I hate pumping almost as much as I love nursing, but nowadays I pump more than twice the amount I nurse. But I think I do it because it helps me feel connected to her, reminds me that God has designed us to be together during this early part of her life. I think about Moses’ mother, and how God used that connection as a way to bring her son back to her for a time.

Lately life has felt like it’s hanging by a thread. For someone who normally doesn’t stress out much, my life is whacked with stress—about my surgeries, my patients, whether I’ll make enough milk, whether I’ll get enough sleep. About the future, and what I’ll do about work versus family. About whether we’ll make it. I need peace, peace like a river, a deep broad one. I need rest, and consolation, and comfort. This is a good reminder that I can only experience that from God, who can mother me in a way as deep and profound and natural as the way I am with E when she nurses. God, be my consolation and my peace.