The Midwives

From Exodus 1:1-22

“One more push.” Shiphrah squatted in front of the mother. “Bear down now, this is it,” she said. The mother’s toes dug into the ground as she groaned and brought the baby full into the world. Shiphrah caught him, closing her arms tightly around his slippery little body and examining him with her well-trained eye. He had all the necessary parts, from tiny toes up to a little bow mouth that turned down and opened to release a guttural wail, a lovely sound.

“Ah, there he is. Welcome, littlest one.” Shiphrah planted a tiny kiss on his nose as a job well done. “Fresh from heaven.” He had exited the birth canal with speed and agility that might’ve been a record for the midwives. They very nearly missed his birth altogether.

Shiphrah’s joints creaked as she slowly stood, keeping the child steady as she moved toward the mother’s outstretched arms. “You are the esteemed mother of a strapping son.” She said to her with a chuckle. “He was quick, but you did well, both of you.” She placed the baby squarely on his mother’s chest and stepped aside for Puah to wipe the mother’s brow. Both midwives stood attending to make sure the new mother and baby began the choreographed dance of nurturing. It didn’t take long before the baby was happily nursing.

Next time Puah will crouch, Shiphrah thought. She rubbed her own knee absentmindedly, working out the aches, then remembered there wouldn’t be a next time. She had decided to dismiss Puah as soon as this was over.

Puah squeezed Shiphrah’s elbow before stepping back to the corner of the room to refresh her water basin. Shiphrah followed her. As she wiped the blood and mucus off her hands, she watched the younger woman working next to her, gently soaking their instruments and rinsing the towels.

Puah had joined Shiphrah as a midwife when she was twelve years old. The older woman wasn’t sure the younger one could handle the requirements of midwifery, the split-second decisions that could save the lives of the mother or the baby, the gore that came with birth, or the screams of the mother and cries of the infants.

But Puah had proven herself adept. It was as if she had been handed to Shiphrah by Yahweh himself at just the right moment. They quickly realized they needed one another. Shiphrah sometimes had two or three births a day, the Hebrew women seemed to be birthing at rapidly increasing rates. At the same time, Puah had lost her own mother during the birth of her little brother. It created a spark inside her, alighting a passion for the laboring mothers.

Shiphrah sighed, “You can leave midwifery,” she had the heaviest of hearts saying it to Puah. “I have been here too long to flee but you could. It’s only been five years, you could still start another trade. Weaving?” Though she knew the young woman’s strong hands would find all those delicate strings tedious to unravel.

Puah turned and looked Shiphrah in the face. “I’m not leaving midwifery and I’m not leaving you.” Puah surprised Shiphrah with the force of it.

Shiphrah folded and unfolded a wet cloth. “I’ll be ok.” She nearly whispered it. She wasn’t so sure. She watched her hands, thinking they were meant for bringing life into the world not taking it away.

Puah wiped her palms on her dress and looked at the mother who was now snoring softly in the same rhythm as her son’s. “The Pharaoh is a fool to think we would kill the baby boys. He can command it but we don’t have to do it.” The young woman’s courage was palpable. Shiphrah could almost taste it.

They had been at the palace together the night before, summoned from their beds. In between bites of slick meat, the Pharaoh had ordered them to kill all the baby boys. The Hebrew nation was growing too quickly and he feared they would revolt against the Egyptians.

“When the Hebrew women are on their birthing stools,” he had said, spittle spewing in the air, “when you deliver their babies, if they have a son, you shall cast him into the Nile. If it is a girl, you shall let her live.”

All morning, during the birth, Shiphrah had been working as if in a dream. She was herself and then she was not. She wondered if she needed to do as she was told. She thought of the murky water of the Nile and the body of the brand new boy being cast away in that filth. She couldn’t bear it. She would rather cast herself away. She could barely speak to the young midwife, she felt so filled with grief.

“The babies are not ours to kill.” Puah was saying, having no trouble with her words. “They belong to Yahweh. You taught me that.”

Shiphrah’s shoulders began to shake from the strain of it all. She was glad the mother and baby were asleep. “I taught you that?”

“Whenever they’re born, you say they’re so fresh from Yahweh. They have always been his gifts, formed in the womb by his hands, you taught me that, too. We receive them, but we don’t create them. Pharaoh doesn’t either. They’re not his to kill.”

Puah’s words washed over Shiphrah as she remembered all the moments in the birthing rooms that it seemed things would go wrong, and yet, they didn’t. The presence of Yahweh was with them every time.

“Remember last week?” Puah wrung a cloth. “The baby stuck in the birth canal? Remember how we asked Yahweh for help and the baby emerged? You have faith as strong as the walls that surround this city. Why are you doubting now?” The young woman turned to face the older, looking at her earnestly and with such passion. Shiphrah kissed her rosy cheek.

“You are right my dear. Let Pharaoh do with us what he will but we will not kill the boys.”

“Yahweh will protect us.” Puah walked the water over to the mother and child and began to gently clean their skin as they slept.

To think she had almost ordered the boys thrown into the river. Shiphrah knew Puah was right, her faith was greater than that. She fell to her knees with relief and wept.

Puah crouched next to her, gently stroking her back. “We’ll tell the Pharaoh that the babies are born too quickly and we can’t make it to their births. That was almost the case today. The Hebrew women are strong, always have been.” Shiphrah sat up and wrapped her shaky arms around the young girl. The two embraced on the floor of the room as the mother and baby slept soundly.

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Exodus says that it was the midwives fear of God that led them to disobey the Pharaoh. In doing so, they protected God’s people, and in turn God blessed them with families. Their story is the beginning of the epic tale of Moses who will save the Israelites from slavery. Eventually, God sends a savior of the world to free both Jew and Gentile from slavery and to usher in new life in him. The birth of that savior, Jesus, was also in the midst of a genocide and just like Moses, Jesus is preserved, continuing to prove that God’s plans are far greater than man’s.