By Leia Giddens, IBCLC | Nurturing Lactation Care | Serving Macon, Eatonton, Greensboro, Lake Oconee, and beyond
I started a prayer course this week at our church. We talked about the importance of creating space to be quiet, to be still, to pray. And y’all—I found myself thinking, I’m so lucky. Not because I’ve got prayer figured out (I don’t), but because I spend a lot of time driving between home visits these days, serving families from Eatonton to Lake Oconee, Greensboro to Milledgeville. And that drive time has become holy time. It’s quiet. It’s peaceful. And for me, it’s sacred space.
But I know not everyone’s in that season.
There have been times in my own life—especially when I was in the thick of postpartum life with a newborn—when quiet time felt like a fantasy. Maybe you’re there now. Maybe your house is loud and sticky and somebody always needs something. Maybe you haven’t peed alone in days. Maybe you’re holding a baby to your chest while your toddler is pulling your shirt and someone left an empty granola bar wrapper under the couch and the laundry’s still wet in the machine.
Can I just say something?
God is near. Right there in it.
The Ministry of Motherhood
I believe that what I do as an IBCLC serving Middle Georgia families is more than healthcare—it’s a ministry. Not in a formal, churchy way. But in the way that God meets us in the quiet (or the chaos) and offers comfort. My work gives me the sacred opportunity to care for women—especially in a season of life when everything feels unfamiliar and raw and so much.
It’s not about having a picture-perfect “quiet time.” You don’t need a sunlit chair, a highlighted Bible, or a peaceful playlist. (Although if that’s your thing—amen and amen.)
But prayer can be something else entirely. It can be the sigh you let out when you finally sit down. The tears you cry in the middle of the night. The whispered, “I can’t do this,” or “Please help me,” that rises from somewhere deep in your spirit.
There’s a passage in Romans that says when we don’t have the words, the Holy Spirit prays for us through our groans. And friend, if you’ve ever paced the floor at 3 a.m. with a screaming baby, you know exactly what that means.
A Season of Feeding
When I was home with my second baby, I had the privilege of staying home with her for several months. Breastfeeding wasn’t easy at first—it rarely is—but around four months in, something shifted. We hit our rhythm. And for the first time, I felt peace wash over me in those moments.
I started realizing that nursing was my quiet time. It was when I remembered who I was. Who God created me to be. It became this beautiful pause, over and over again throughout the day and night. A reminder to just be—not perform, not produce, just be.
And I protected that time. I didn’t scroll. I didn’t check out. I was there—in the moment—with God, with my baby, with myself.
Not every mom has that same setup. And that’s okay. Maybe you’re feeding your baby with a bottle. Maybe you’re pumping in a supply closet at work or your car in a Walmart parking lot. Maybe you’re mixing formula at 2 a.m. because your body didn’t make enough milk or your mental health needed protecting. God is with you in all of it. And that feeding time—whatever it looks like—can still be sacred.
Sisterhood, Faith, and What We’ve Been Missing
We live in a world where faith has often been filtered through male voices—and I’m grateful for the men who have nurtured and led well. But there are things only women can understand. Things like breastfeeding. Birth. Loss. Exhaustion. Rage. Wonder.
And that’s why we need each other. To remind one another that our bodies are sacred. That God speaks to and through women, too. That we were created not just to serve, but to be served by a loving God who sees us exactly where we are.
Whether you’re in Putnam County or downtown Milledgeville, whether you’re preparing for birth or navigating your fourth baby—know this:
Mama, you are seen. You are loved. And God is near—yes, even here.
Need lactation support?
I offer home visits in Eatonton, Lake Oconee, Greensboro, Milledgeville, and surrounding Middle Georgia communities—as well as virtual visits anywhere in Georgia. If you’re struggling, I’d be honored to walk this journey with you.
📞 Call or text: 478-288-8784
🌐 Learn more or book a visit: nurturinglc.com