I think of Solomon declaring the baby should be sliced in half. I think of nannies, and step-mothers. I think of tug-a-war. Where do women learn to share children? Where do we work out the responsibilities, and the roles?
I think of Woody Allen’s infamous joke, “… Very few people survive one mother.”
We’ve had to be new women. Deciding which of us will carry, and which of us will stay home, and what we’ll be called, and how to share. And it must be deliberate. Thoughtful. We must take action to have a child — track down a donor, or adopt. Or, if we’ve joined a family, figure out how to make a place for ourselves at the fire.
And somehow, sort out where our careers fall. Because we each have those too.
These conversations feel new to me, because they are new. We’re writing as we go. Journaling the possibilities. The way women always have.