cheap ghd Time is running out for my friend. While we are sitting at lunch she
casually mentions she and her husband are thinking of starting a family.
"We're taking a survey,” she says, half-joking. "Do you think I
should have a baby?" "It will change your life," I say,
carefully keeping my tone neutral. "I know,” she says, "no more
sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous holidays..." But that's not
what I mean at all. I look at my friend, trying to decide what to tell her. I
want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to
tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a
mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will be
vulnerable forever. I consider warning her that she will never again read a
newspaper without thinking: "What if that had been MY child?" Every
plane crash, every house fire will haunt her.
GHD straightener cheap When she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if
anything could be worse than watching your child die. I look at her carefully
manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she
is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear
protecting her cub. I feel I should warn her that no matter how many years she
has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood.
She might arrange for child care, but one day she will be going into an
important business meeting, and she will think her baby's sweet smell. She will
have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make
sure her child is all right. I want my friend to know that every decision will
no longer be routine. A five-year-old boy's desire to go to the men's room
rather than the women's at a restaurant will become a major dilemma. The issues
of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a
child molester may be lurking in the lavatory. However decisive she may be at
the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother.
Looking at my attractive friend, I want to assure her that
eventually she will shed the added weight of pregnancy, but she will never feel
the same about herself. That her own life, now so important, will be of less
value to her once she has a child. She would give it up in a moment to save her
offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years—not to accomplish her own
dreams—but to watch her children accomplish theirs. I want to describe to my
friend the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to hit a ball. I want to
capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog
for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real it hurts. My
friend's look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll
never regret it," I say finally. Then, squeezing my friend's hand, I offer
a prayer for her and me and all of the mere mortal women who stumble their way
into this holiest of callings.
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