Three months. That is how long a mother can pretend her baby does not cry.
"But she could conceal him no longer, for the Mizraee had become aware of him. And she took an ark of papyrus, and coated it with bitumen and pitch, and placed the child within it, and laid him among the reeds on the bank of the river."
The Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Exodus (2:3) uses the word teivah — the same word the Torah uses for Noah's ark (Genesis 6:14). Two arks. Two families. Two rescues through water. The sages noticed this immediately. The Holy One's rescue blueprint does not change much over the centuries. When the world is drowning, He provides a floating box.
But look at what Jokheved chooses to coat it with. Bitumen — the ancient tar of the Mizraee kilns — and pitch. The same substance the Hebrew slaves were forced to work. The material of oppression becomes the waterproofing for the redeemer. The mortar of bondage is sealing the basket of freedom.
This is a deep Jewish idea. The tools of our exile become the tools of our redemption, when used with intention. Pharaoh's bricks built Pithom and Ra'amses; Pharaoh's pitch kept Moses dry.
And where does Jokheved place the basket? Among the reeds on the bank of the river — right by a bathing spot used by royalty. She is not setting him adrift to the gods of fate. She is placing him, with surgical precision, exactly where a princess is about to step into the water.
Beloved, prayer builds the box. Strategy places it in the right current.