Hmm. How does that math work out from date of lamprey conception, soon-to-be lamprey parents marriage and date of lamprey birth?

No reason. Just hoping for more fun facts!

What do you care if you have a kid or not? You write about television, for God's sake, for an internet magazine. Yeah, that baby is really going to cramp your style as you breastfeed in front of the tube for hours on end.

After hearing all the horror stories over the past few months it makes you wonder who in their right mind goes through with their pregnancies as if babies were never without all the crap and attention that seem to be demanded nowadays. And marketing....one thing you realise early on is that you've entered a rarified and glorious marketing niche that PT Barnum could only have dreamed about. Buy the wrong crib or pram and the baby might come back to torment you with their therapist in 20-30 years.

If it weren't for these damn hormones, I'd be reaching for the adoption hotline. :)

In her letter, mslaura writes:

"We talk about hiking, travel, literature, food, careers, balancing life and work...pretty much the same stuff that childless people talk about. Except slightly less vapid and self-absorbed."

It's disappointing that you would use your appreciation of motherhood to make that comment about "childless" people. It's as insidious a stereotype as are some of Ms. Havrilesky's characterizations about mothers.

I often hear how selfless people become as parents -- how much more caring they've become than when they were single or childless-- as if parenting and mothering are the only experiences which cause us to reflect on our lives in deep and soulful ways. As if being a mother is the only thing which make us whole, thoughtful and mature women.

I'm childless or child-free or whatever the current vernacular. And I've embraced my friends in their lives with their children. We're friends, with or without children. As much as possible, I have been available and supportive through their births, sleepless nights, illnesses, divorces. I have rarely forgotten a baby's birthday or a special event in my close friends lives. I've made the effort to call and check in regularly and to see if there's any way I can be of help when I have an extra hour.

When I struggled with some life-altering and shattering experiences, I can say that only one of my parent friends was there for me. It was the other childless people I know who pitched in and helped when I needed a hand. And I understand. The life of a parent, as much as I've learned [albeit vicariously] is so difficult and overwhelming and there's very little left over. I accept that and am grateful to have both parents and non-parents in my social circle to add dimension and perspective to all of our lives.

But I just don't want to hear again how "vapid" and "self-absorbed" childless people are when I think "vapid" and "self-absorbed" are qualities that can exist in parents and childless people alike. I've certainly met my share of self-absorbed parents. And I've met my share of selfless childless people. It goes both ways.

The day we women can respect all choices or circumstances among our fellow females, childless or with child, is the day I'll believe we've evolved beyond the divisive cliches put forth by both Ms. Havrilesky and mslaura.

You have serious issues, Heather. I hope your children never get to read this, that is, if they ever get an education in your house.

You're lucky you're a woman - in this PC climate you can get away with writing drek that would result in an internet lynching if written by a man.

Heather,

What you write is more or less correct for about six or eight weeks. After that, baby will start smiling at you and then life will be different.

Hugs,

Evert

Although I'm male and therefore can't possibly connect fully, our kids are now 24, 22, and 18 and now that the youngest is away at college, we're wrestling with having our lives back. It's weird and pleasant in equal measure...

You're the best writer on Salon, and the main reason I keep coming back as a subscriber from the early days, even though you haven't deigned to review "Las Vegas" which is rich in the ironic faux Love-Boat vein that you would otherwise seem to enjoy. Nevertheless, I look forward to your articles with unseemly anticipation.

You skip a lot between the lamprey and the nursing home stages, and I must say there is a lot of wonderful stuff in between there. You're obviously going to be a great parent and I look forward to reading your reaction to that. Smite the naysayers and follow your path, as I'm sure you would have anyway.

all the best,

- keverino

I laughed when I read this. I think a lot of it is true--the sucking lamprey, the duffel bag stomach, etc. It can be quite challenging, but at the same time, it's easy to describe the agony and impossible to describe the ecstasy. And being a parent is truly miraculous, ecstatic, amazing, joyful. My kids are teens and I still can't believe they're alive and well, I wake up happy just knowing that they are here and I get to enjoy them every single day. I envy you your years of wonderful discovery.

(I'd stay away from the attachment parenting though--every kid I know who's been attachment parented is a brat to the tenth power!)

Heather, I'm a dad, but I have a seven month old mechanical monkey strapped to my chest snoozing at 7 AM this morning, so I'm going to try to help a little here.

You're missing the intangible Why We Do This a little. Yes, the first few months are grueling. But all the same - at the same time! - you have this person, and she's a person, and you're watching her become a person, and you're helping her become a person, and she loves you so much. The light in her eyes when your husband hands her over at 7 a.m. makes up for the 3 a.m. feeding. The giggles when you razz her tummy change your entire body chemistry if you let it. You're madly, passionately, thrillingly if exhaustedly in love all the time, and shouldn't love be a little exhausting? Sometimes a little scary? Wouldn't it be boring otherwise? Shouldn't true love change your life?

And much like with any love, your true friends adapt. Brunch is our meal now, but dahling, we have very entertaining brunches. Your friends go out and buy teensy little hipster clothes. You get weird, unexpected expressions of affection from your dad who may never have been so good at that sort of thing. Sometimes your parents are irritating and intrusive, but sometimes at night you think, hey, they love me as much as I love this snoozing monkey with the apple cheeks and look of perfect trust? And then you think, hey, and that whole crust around your family heart formed by your teenage years softens a little.

The monkey goes to bed early enough that you can still watch all the television you want, provided you have Tivo. Friends can come over and watch "Lost" with a bowl of popcorn, and you can still go through two bottles of wine between four people.

I'm also going to jump on board with the people who say that a little attachment isn't a bad thing. There's no actual virtue in suffering, yours or the monkey's; it doesn't make you stronger, it just makes you more bitter and cranky. Strap her on and she can see the world around you, and more importantly, you exchange those looks that make it all worth it. And you will want to have her nearby when she's hungry. But don't forget about the love. There can be a lot of it.