Rebellious Midwives and A New Creation: A Mother's Day Reflection
Reading: Exodus 1 “So, do you have any kids?” I get this question a lot. I don’t know if it’s my age, my gender, or the dark circles under my eyes, but people seem to think I could be a Mom. I don’t mind the question, really. It’s usually parents asking, and I get the sense that it’s more a question of solidary ala, "Are you in the trenches too? Have you fought in the toddler wars?” But, as of now, the answer for us is still “no.” That being said, it seems like everyone we know is having babies. Adulthood, I’ve learned, unfolds in a series of waves. First the marriages, then the jobs, then the babies… Now that close friends are having kids, I am forced to hear the nitty gritty details of what it’s like to be pregnant and give birth. No offense Moms, but it’s the stuff of nightmares. I'm convinced that the greatest thing our Mom’s do for us is pretending that having us was no big deal; pleasant even. They should give out academy award for those theatrics. But now, now