“You experience them experiencing pure magic, unadulterated by cynicism or irony or self-consciousness. And as the ride makes its full circle, so do you, until Peter Pan has done it again, and you are once more a child, taking it all in, amazed, overwhelmed, enchanted.”
Neil Patrick Harris, Choose Your Own Autobiography

There are few things closer to universal than the desire to settle into one’s existence with a loving mate and children. It’s partly biological, but it’s also much, much more and it crosses all cultural, geographic, demographic, social, and economic strata. I’ve known quite a few people who swore they were different, only to change their minds when the proverbial clock started ticking and fall crazy in love with their new little bundle. And even those who decide that parenthood isn’t for them, are typically thrilled for friends who do and happy to serve as “aunt” or “uncle.”

Although I straddled the fence beforehand, I can verify that my children are easily the most important part of my pretty good life. It’s not something I can quantify beyond a feeling deeper than the ocean and higher than the stars. So when my friends decide to have children, I am joyful for them—and when they struggle to make it a reality, my heart hurts for them.