My television was on for the Katie Couric/Beyonce interview a few weeks ago on 20/20. I only half watched until Beyonce made a remark about her preference for the sex of her baby.
KATIE: Any preference?
BEYONCE: I don’t care. I just want . . . I’m just like everyone else . . . and now I know why
people say that. It’s true.
KATIE: You just want a healthy baby?
I can think of a million reasons Beyonce is NOT like everyone else. She has a vibrant music career, acts, produces, edits, designs. It seems like there’s nothing she can’t do . . . and she’s got a whole lot more money than me or any of my friends are ever going to see. If I were making a list of people who were just like me, Beyonce’s name would never be there. Even if I really wanted it to be.
But she’s joining the mommy-club . . . a club that welcomes women of all races, ages, socio-economic backgrounds, talents and dreams . . . and in that context she IS just like everyone else. No amount of money, resources or special connections can certifiably guarantee the well-being of her unborn child. The tribal mom, the overseas mom, the single mom, the middle-class mom, the military mom, the refugee mom, you, me, Beyonce . . . we’re all in the same boat wanting the same things for our kids. Life. Health. Happiness. Safety. In a lot of ways we can do everything to make those things happen and in a lot of ways we can do nothing.
I’m just like everyone else.
You’re just like everyone else.
Beyonce’s just like everyone else.
I wake up every day thanking God that I have two boys who are healthy and strong and full of life. I know that not every mother can say that. It breaks my heart to think about what the mom of the child going through chemo, or the mom who just lost her preemie, or the mom who hopes that this pregnancy might be the one to make it all the way . . . is thinking and feeling. They live in a reality that I am not forced to comprehend, but they thrive and they love and they inspire us all to cherish and pray for the simple most precious things of life . . . our kids.
We’re all the same . . . you, me . . . even Beyonce.