The irony of that story doesn’t even begin to compare with this one’s: Shira, the young rabbi, found herself desperate to pump while officiating at a winter funeral that had gone on far longer than expected, in twenty-degree weather. With nowhere to go and her breasts so full she felt close to vomiting, Shira holed up in a car in the snow, covering the windows with her coat. “My job was to bury someone when they needed to be buried, and that trumped my baby’s need for food, but eventually my physical need to relieve the pressure had taken over,” she says. “I remember calling my rabbi friend
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