“Do you have kids?” the sex therapist who knew Gary Wilensky had asked me during our interview. When I told her I didn’t, she asked if I wanted them. I don’t know, I responded, I guess I was waiting for the decision to be made for me. I’m still waiting, though at thirty-eight, not deciding has become a decision in itself. I had expected motherhood to develop inside me, the way puberty had—without my input, and within the same time frame as others my age. Uncomfortable initially, the alignment with other women experiencing the same stage of maturity at the same pace eased the awkwardness of
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