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 But with her new evaluation of her husband, the deepening of her sense of security, and the growth of her tranquillity, all this childish frightened protest against the miracle of motherhood washes away. Now the scales really fall from her eyes and she feels the full meaning and majesty of what it means to be a woman.

What a privilege it is, she realizes, to be the carrier of the race, the agent of its immortality. What fate could be richer, more beautiful, more filled with wonder and with awe.

I am not exaggerating the importance of this realization. Pride in it, joy in it are the very most central characteristics of the feminine woman. To me its highest expression is in the Madonna paintings which the great Renaissance artists took, over and over again, as a major subject. The Alba Madonna by Raphael catches the essential quality of femininity, expresses it for all to see—and to revere.

Now, with this realization, the last vestiges of her envy of the male and of his role in life disappear. How, she may wonder, with this marvelous capability of hers, inimitable by man, could she ever have depreciated the role of woman, wanted what men have?

At this juncture, or closely following on it, a woman begins to feel her full power, the power that comes to her for her surrender to her destiny. She now realizes that, far from being in a weak position in relationship to man, her position is so strong that she must be careful not to exploit it. One of the deepest and strongest psychological needs of man is his poignant desire for immortality through his children. She could deny him this, or she could make his life miserable while granting him it. Or she can make it the most beautiful and meaningful thing in her life and in his.

What this new realization means to a woman was stated very beautifully in a letter I received from a former patient. We had been able to work only two weeks on her problem,