Why does Genesis 3:16 say, "To the woman He said: I will increase your suffering and your pregnancy; in pain you shall give birth to children, and your desire shall be for your husband, and he shall rule over you?" It's a tough verse, and Jewish tradition grapples with it in fascinating ways.

One intriguing idea, found in Bereshit Rabbah, a classic collection of Rabbinic interpretations of Genesis, questions whether God even speaks directly to women at all! Rabbi Yehuda ben Rabbi Simon and Rabbi Yoḥanan, citing Rabbi Elazar ben Rabbi Simon, suggest that God only spoke directly to Sarah, and even then, only because it was necessary.

Why? Well, God had been talking to Abraham about why Sarah laughed when she overheard that she would conceive in her old age (Genesis 18:13). Sarah denied it: "I did not laugh" (Genesis 18:15). So, according to this reading, God had to set the record straight: "No, but you did laugh" (Genesis 18:15). Rabbi Abba bar Kahana, in the name of Rabbi Yitzḥak, even points out that God spoke to her indirectly! Instead of a direct "Yes, you laughed," it was a roundabout way of saying the same thing.

But wait! What about Hagar? Doesn't Genesis 16:13 say, "She called the name of the Lord, who spoke to her?" Rabbi Yehoshua bar Rabbi Neḥemya, in the name of Rabbi Idi, explains that God spoke to her through an angel. And Rabbi Elazar, citing Rabbi Yosei ben Zimra, suggests it was through Shem, Noah's son! The text implies that Hagar consulted with Shem, who was a spiritual leader in that era.

Let’s dig deeper into that loaded phrase, "I will increase [harba arbe] your suffering and your pregnancy." Rabbi Abba bar Kahana, again in the name of Rabbi Shmuel, offers a fascinating insight: "Any fetus who has reached harba, I shall grant it growth [arbe]." He connects this to the gestation period, suggesting that a fetus born after 212 days – the numerical value of the Hebrew word harba – can survive. It's a very early understanding of premature birth!

Rabbi Huna adds to this, noting that if a fetus is "formed" to be born after nine months but comes early at seven or eight, it won't survive. However, if "formed" to be born after seven months, it has a chance even if born later.

They even asked Rabbi Abahu where this idea comes from! He cleverly uses Greek: zeta, the seventh letter, sounds like "live," while eta, the eighth letter, sounds like "dying." It's a playful, almost poetic way to understand the fragility of life.

Rabbi Berekhya, in the name of Rabbi Shmuel, then throws another number into the mix, suggesting that a woman will always give birth after 271, 272, or 273 days – nine months plus a few days for conception.

There's even a story about Ḥiyya bar Ada, who was struggling to understand something Rav was teaching because he was worried about his donkey giving birth! He knew that sometimes a donkey gives birth early (after a lunar year) and sometimes late (after a solar year) -- an eleven day range! Rav challenged him, citing Job 39:1-2, which seems to imply a set term for animal pregnancies. Ḥiyya bar Ada cleverly replies that Job is speaking of small animals, and he is speaking of a large, non-kosher one.

The text then returns to the Genesis verse, unpacking the layers of suffering: "Your suffering" is the pain of conception; "and your pregnancy" is the discomfort of menstruation; "in pain" is the pain of miscarriage; "you shall give birth" is the pain of childbirth; "to children" is the difficulty of raising children.

Finally, Rabbi Elazar ben Rabbi Shimon offers a striking thought: It's easier for a man to support an entire legion with olives in the Galilee than to raise one child in the Land of Israel. It's a powerful statement about the immense challenges and responsibilities of parenthood.

So, what do we take away from this deep dive into Bereshit Rabbah 20? It’s not just a simple explanation of a difficult verse. It's a glimpse into how the Rabbis wrestled with questions of divine communication, the mysteries of childbirth, and the profound complexities of human life. It's a reminder that even the most challenging texts can offer surprising insights when we approach them with curiosity and a willingness to explore.