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My friend Eydie was in a severe car accident about 5 years ago in New York. She spent a lot of time in a wheelchair, a lot of time with pins and braces inserted into her body, and a lot of time in physical therapy. She broke all sorts of bones and has long white scars on her back and across her hips from surgery. She moved from New York to LA and we ran across each other thanks to the internet. We started talking, and remembered why we were friends to begin with. She's moving back to New York now, and she started her drive the day before yesterday. She stopped in Tempe and we talked for an hour or so. She seemed smaller, her frame less imposing than it used to be. We talked about love and life and relationships, and the pressure on Arabic women to simultaneously settle down with a bushel of kids and still be an independent creative woman. She said she's been worrying lately about being able to even have kids, because of the injuries she sustained in the accident. Her hips wouldn't hold up. I looked at her, her cute little face and her wise eyes and I told her that if it came down to that, I would bear a child for her in an instant. I can have my own, I told her, and she could have all the wacky lab business done and I would carry a baby for her if it was necessary. She was awed, and I think she wondered at first if I meant it... I did. I still do. Somehow it seems like a really small thing for me to do to help someone else bring a child into the world, when I could probably do it with no problems at all if I were so inclined.

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