Diane has created ongoing ripples in the stream of my consciousness by
inviting reminiscences about what motivated each of us in our calling to
lactation work.
Also on Lactnet the last few months, interwoven here and there have been
threads from various religious views. I would like to share this
beautiful memory that surfaced this week.
32 years ago last fall, I gave birth to my 5th child, a little girl whose
beautiful red hair I was able to see immediately, even through the
vernix, etc.
At the time, my first 4 ranged from 16 down to 8, and I had for years
looked forward to bearing at least one more child before my clock
"finished ticking".
I had enjoyed a rewarding breastfeeding experience with my 4th child
after 3 nightmarish experiences of 5 days each with the first 3. Between
maternity leaves, I found great satisfaction in my work as a maternity
nurse.
At that point in the history of the Roman Catholic Church, there were
great changes going on. Not the least of these was increasingly open
discussion, especially among women, questioning the policy of limiting
the priesthood to males.
My days and nights were so full of family responsibilities, including
exclusive breastfeeding, that I never gave much thought to the matter.
When she was 6 weeks old, I felt "organized" enough to return to church.
My first time back, I arrived early to carry her into the sanctuary for a
quiet personal visit in front of the tabernacle. I was intending to
"introduce" her to "My boss, the Jewish carpenter", and express my
silent thanks for the privilege of having one more wonderful experience.
As I stood there contemplating the miracle of reproduction, it occurred
to me that except for the molecules of oxygen she had breathed since her
birth and the miniscule but miraculous genetic contribution my husband
had made "in me, with me and through me", every atom in her beautiful
little body had once been an atom in mine.
At that moment, I heard my inner voice saying, more literally than any
male priest could ever do, "This is my body. This is my blood."
It still brings tears to my eyes when I think of the overwhelming moment
when I had that beautiful realization.
Jean
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K. Jean Cotterman RNC, IBCLC
Dayton, Ohio
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