Eva Bradley is an award-winning columnist.
There are two famous quotes I have often called on to guide my life, and they're equally useful. But there are times when they can conflict, and the question is: what does one do then?
Way back in 1597, British statesman and scientist Francis Bacon told us all that "knowledge is power".
Which is unquestionably true. How can you make the best decisions in life and move forward with confidence when you have no idea what you are doing? Unless, of course, you relate more to 18th-century poet Thomas Gray's perspective when he famously wrote "where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise".
Generally speaking, it is probably best to employ both of these principles in equal measure. Specifically speaking, in regards to impending childbirth and parenthood, I'm leaning towards ignorance.
A month into our antenatal classes, we are at the business end of learning about labour. And learning. And learning. And learning. It is safe to say I now know every possible worst-case-scenario of what could go wrong in the process of delivering my baby.
I also know so much about the reality of childbirth that I have concluded bringing a human into the world is ironically about as dehumanising as humanly possible.
Unlike every other woman in the group, I am unfashionably not of the "need to know" school of thought, slightly prudish in attitude and horrified in disposition.
The only thing I feel I really need to know on the day (somewhere around the end of August) is that the drugs are close at hand alongside the experts.
The rest is all excess theory and the reality I hope will vanish into the ether of repressed memory.
So that's childbirth sorted.
What about child rearing? Realistically I can see the need to side with Francis Bacon on this one. After the first couple of weeks when baby daddy is back to work, the kid and I are on our own. And given they can hardly be expected to know much about life and how to get on with it by then, it's up to me to armour-up with knowledge and ensure the process of turning a newborn into a baby and beyond goes as smoothly as possible.
So this week I've been doing some research. In Auckland as the sober, pregnant (aka boring) date of my fiance while he's at a conference, I've spent the days with a couple of my best friends who have children.
They're the sort of friends who know me well enough to be honest about life with kids and to absorb me into that life rather than meet me at a cafe during morning kindy and pretend they are still the people they once were.
Because, as they'll be the first to admit, they're not. They are mothers first, last and in between. The designer clothes are either covered in play dough or gone all together. There hasn't been time for makeup for the last three years.
While it was probably good to be ignorant about their reality a few months ago, now that it's too late to turn back I'm glad for the opportunity to see what life as a mum is really like.
I'm not sure you could call my observations "knowledge", and I'm far from feeling "powerful" about the impending responsibility, but at least the rose-coloured glasses are off and I'm ready and (sort of) willing to surrender my life to somebody else who is going to need it more than I do for the next 20 years.