To my (many, many)pregnant friends:

It’s not my intention to pen one of these condescending diatribes from mothers to mothers-to-be (not even myself as a mother-to-be) that are so in vogue, please know that.

You are missing it. You are missing the best part. I know about the waiting. I have two, both overdue, both induced. I understand the heaviness of “will it be today” every day for two weeks on end. How it wears. But, really, you’re missing it.

From the moment – the very second – this child leaves your body, the world will have its way with them. There will be shots they need, measurements taken, but it doesn’t stop there. When they’re two, some well-meaning relative will give them their first taste of refined sugar in the form of a SpongeBob lollipop. When they’re five they’ll come home signing a song you’ve only heard on commercials for American Idol and which you hate. When they’re eight they’ll ask what “Nigger” means because they heard it in school and they think maybe it means “stupid” but they’re not sure.

And you will have to explain it to them. All of these things – they will require an explanation for the world into which you brought them. And you will be at a loss. And it will kill you.

And the world will continue to bring an ugliness to them that they never knew in your womb, and you will be at a loss. And it will kill you.

It is never as easy as it is when they’re in your belly. Everything I ate, they ate. Everything I drank, they drank, everything I breathed they breathed and everything I heard they heard. I could filter it all, I could pick & choose, the power was all mine. I had two commands: Eat right and quit smoking. And it was easy.

I'm not going to even mention commercials. Fucking diabolical.

Now I have to fight the rest of the world for them. And it is so much harder.