Maid, mother, crone.  The more I explore my fertility and think about having children, the more I feel in touch with my role as a woman. 

It feels weird being on the cusp of maid and mother—kind of floating between the roles, a place of expectation and sorrow.  I’m afraid to relinquish the role of maid, sad even, to move into this new phase of my life.  Scared, too, to leave something so familiar behind.  But I can’t help move forward to mother, I feel drawn to it.  I want to embrace this time, though, this time of transition- we don’t get too many of those.  In the last year, I think I’ve begun to appreciate the instability and uncertainty in life.  Transitions are most beautiful in their fleetingness- if Fall lasted forever, where would the crisp fall melancholy come from?  And Spring, what beauty would be lost if all the flowers were perfectly poised, eternally ready to split and blossom?  The beauty of the moment before is tied to the moment after—without one, you cannot truly have the other.  So maid is all the more beautiful for its loss to mother, and mother for its loss to crone. 

To Create.