At puberty, when we become biologically able to conceive a child, we have an average of 400,000 eggs ready and waiting to develop, and by age thirty-six, the number has declined to about 36,000- still tens of thousands more than a woman will ever need, no matter how many children she wants to have!
I read this weeks ago, and I cannot get it out of my mind.
Two million eggs!
When they were born, my daughters carried within them the possibility of two million children. Together, they had the potential of giving me grandchildren equal to the population of Moldova.
I am 31. I have given birth to two babies . . . but I didn't give birth to 399,998! There is still time. I still have about 40,000 left.
Now, before you think I'm going all Nadya Suleman on you here . . . this struck me in terms of possibility.
The older I get, the more aware I am of the creative, life-giving potential in every woman.
This abundance of eggs, to me, does a lot to explain that incurable longing in every woman, the restless spirit, that question we eternally grapple with . . .
Who am I?
We never really know for sure.
Because all of our living is pregnant with living.
We work, but we long to nurture.
We nurture, but we wish for vocation.
We give and give and give ourselves, but are not depleted.
We create, and there is no end to our creating . . . there is always the next thing, and the next.
We conceive and our bodies miraculously knit babies . . . we give birth to child, and give birth to her mother.
We make magical milk and give life to an infant . . . and when breastfeeding is over we both are stronger. There is nothing lost.We plant ourselves in our children and watch them grow and change, and find ourselves still growing and changing as well.
We take on a house and somehow it becomes home.
We love deep and raise lovers,
we teach and raise teachers,
we heal and raise healers,
we instill beauty and raise beauty-makers.
And at the end of the day, the year, the season . . . there is so much left to do . . . no, not laundry . . . possibilities.
Energy yet to give.
Life yet to live.
Creation waiting to be born.
Who am I?
We don't know because there is more life in us than we can possibly know what to do with.
We were born pregnant, we are always pregnant, always procreating, continually giving life.
We are many things.