My memory isn't what it used to be. But, I'll never forget the days my babies were born. I remember that they came with pain, but I don't remember what the pain felt like. And that is a good thing. NO, I'm not reflecting on those moments because I have any thoughts of having another child. It's a little late for that anyway. But what's got me thinking about the birth of my boys is a conversation I had recently with one of my very best friends.

She doesn't have children. But for as long as I've known her, nearly 20 years, she has talked about wanting to be a mother. When my boys were young I could always count on her to baby sit them. She likes to tell people she helped raise them. I don't know about that, but she was there for me whenever I called. And she spent a good deal of time with them, taking them out to eat and keeping them some weekends, just because she wanted them around.

She was there when Trey insisted that he have an ear pierced like Michael Jordan. He was 6 and she held him in her lap when the they placed that little piercing gun to his ear and pop. He didn't even wince, and this is a kid who screamed at the sight of needles. I would take several nurses to hold him down when it came time for shots. But he sat calm and cool in Kelly's lap.  He hasn't worn an ear ring now for years. Just as well.

Kelly loves to tell the story about the time she took Jordan out for dinner with a group of her friends when he was a little more than a year old and how they marveled at the way he ate grown up food (even though he made amess with it) and talked like a little man.

So it really made me sad when she called to tell me that she had fibroids and would have to have a hysterectomy, ending all possibility of her ever having the joy of giving birth. The news took my breath away for a moment. I didn't know what to say. I said, "I'm so sorry."

Kelly is young. Oh the biological clock has been ticking loud for a few years, but there was still time for her to experience birth. Not now, though.

After I hung up from talking to her I wished I had known wnhat to say. I wished I'd had some profound words of comfort for her. All I could think of, though, was to tellhere that if she wants to be a mother she still can because there are so many children out there who need a mom, who need some stable place to call home and someone who will love them, tuck them in at night and tell them all will be OK.

 She had already thought about that, she said. She was OK with knowing she will never give birth.

Kelly goes back to the doctor soon for more tests, before her big surgery. She told me she's a litttle frightened about losing her mama parts, but she added that she's happy she had a chance to be a part of careing for my two when they were babies.

It's all so sad to me, that someone who wants so much to have a baby won't. Especially when I kno thee are so may woman and young girls out there having babies they don't want or don't know how to care for. I just thought that maybe some of you blog readers might be able to help me find some comforting words for my friend.

 For now all I could muster is to say to he is that being a mother is more than giving birth; it's havinga child  in your life that you keep clean, comfortable, wam and fed. It's holding them, singing to them _ even when you can't sing, teaching them right from wrong, playing with them, listening to them, advising them, scolding them when they need it, and encouraging them to be the best they can be.

 Kelly did all that at one time or another for my boys. If she chooses, she could be a good mom to some child who needs one.