A recent Atlantic review of Selfish, Shallow, and Self-Absorbed prompted me to read the book and reflect on my own reasons for having a child. I have always enjoyed the company of children, finding them fascinating and dear. I will be forever grateful to my friends and siblings who welcomed me into their families’ lives, giving me the gift of being “aunt” to their children and allowing me to see the challenges and less-than-glamorous dimensions of family life. These experiences, along with the care and nurturing I received from my own parents, have shaped my attitudes about children.

In thinking about these beliefs, I recalled a phone conversation I had while in law school with a friend, a mother of small children, whose days were often filled with sticky fingers and temper tantrums. Though we were at very different stages of life, I told my friend that as intellectually stimulating as my studies were and exciting as the opportunities were on the horizon, they were nothing compared to what she was doing: lovingly forming human beings with immortal souls.

While truly holding to the belief that I had expressed to my friend during our phone call, I was uncertain until several years ago whether I would have ever children of my own. It was not that I had dedicated my life to my career, despite finding great satisfaction in my professional pursuits, or that I did not welcome the idea of having children of my own. It was that I was still single. I believed then as I do now that it is best for children to come into this world within a marriage and to have a mother and a father. The uncertainty of at least the possibility of children was lifted when I married my husband.

It is impossible for me to reflect on being a parent without also reflecting on my relationship with my husband. The decision to have children was not a decision I made by myself based solely on my desires and goals, but one that my husband and I made together, happily so. And it was not a decision that we made after we took our vows and were settled well into the routine of daily life. Rather, it was one that was an integral and essential part of our decision to marry each other. We deeply loved one another and desired to spend the rest of our lives together living a life in which we would happily welcome any children with whom God might bless us. We knew that there was no guarantee of children, but we knew that should they come, children would be an expression of our love, even with the incumbent sacrifices and difficulties of parenting. From our wedding day, we more than happily accepted the possibility of children because of our shared belief in the intrinsic beauty and value of each human being. The prospect that we could be co-creators of a child possessing an immortal soul and responsible for guiding and forming that child was exciting, even if also a little daunting.

Now that our son is part of our family, I am humbled and grateful. The joy, as well as the fatigue (thank God for coffee!), are beyond what I could have possibly imagined on the day my husband and I got engaged. And how could I have anticipated what a gift this particular boy, my son, would be? The extraordinary shines through the ordinary moments of our sometimes crazy daily life, bringing a richness that makes life fun and interesting, at least to us and those with whom we are blessed to share our lives. Professional pursuits and personal interests still remain for my husband and me, but they have taken on a new focus and dimension since becoming parents.

As is often the case with gifts, each one brings surprises. For me, among the greatest surprises of parenthood have been self-knowledge and the depth of my capacity for love. My son’s needs and desires (and sometimes demands) have drawn me outside of myself, directing me toward another person in ways that no other experience has, or I believe could have, done. At the same time, the messiness of parenting sometimes places a magnifying glass on my personal shortcomings, which has not always been a pleasant experience. I see daily that my capacity for and to love is hemmed-in by these failings and that by working on my faults, bit by bit, I am able to love more and hopefully love better.

This is certainly going to be a lifelong project, but one that I am willing to undertake, with my husband’s love and support and God’s grace. For me, at my life’s end, I hope to reflect on and remember how well I loved—loved God, my husband, my child(ren), my family, and those whom God put in my life’s path.