Juleeta C. Harvey

Clear as glass.  Raising my recently rinsed wine glass to the light, I can see all the way through, and the clarity invites me to marvel.

That’s how I remember Miranda’s declaration, fourteen years ago.  Clear as light-trimmed glass.

“My husband and I have agreed that when I’m done having babies, I can at least get a lift, if not a full blown boob job,” Miranda announced casually in the middle of our breastfeeding conversation.

If I didn’t have photos to remind me of Luke’s first chubby-faced giggle, I might not even remember it. It the same for his pulling away from the couch to take his first wobbly steps, which looked like dangerous tightrope walking as he lunged forward, one pink, fleshy foot in front of the other. Photographs call to mind all of the important firsts that I know that I saw.  But the memory, without any pictures, is a tricky thing — sometimes hazy and unreliable.

But I remember, very clearly, Miranda’s admittance at our toddler playgroup that morning.  I didn’t snap a photo of her saying it or journal my surprised response, but I can still hear her voice the words.  At any moment, I can press Play on the button that resides in the recesses of my amygdala, where the processing of emotions begins its journey.

Luke was barely three months old, just sleeping more than six hours.  I was suffering from a lack of sleep and a lack of purpose.  I had recently left my teaching job, decided against pursuing further graduate study, and had found myself enslaved to the never-ending nap and nursing schedule of a newborn.

What in the heck are we doing? 

 My child is perfect, so why am I feeling torn about motherhood?

That morning, in an attempt to not lose my everlovin’ mind*, I packed my diaper bag for the next world war and drove to a new mom’s neighborhood playgroup. [Read more…] about What Does Plastic Surgery Mean for Women?