We were having a discussion about pregnancy today. How the body changes to ready itself for the baby to giving birth. My co-workers were discussing their pregnancies. How they had natural birth or c-sections. Their scars. Why they were in pain. How invasive their doctors were in their appointments.
All I could do was stand there listening to them describe what happened to them absolutely horrified.
all of sudden they turned to me “So when is it your turn to be pregnant?”
“No! No one is coming near this body!” I cried. “I am going to become like Kim Kardashian! No baby is coming out of this vagina!”
They frowned. “But Kim K had babies.”
“But she had preeclampsia” one mused. “so I guess you are half right”
“No one is coming near my vagina!” I shook my head. “I will have a surrogate!”
They all laughed at me. I was completely horrified.
“My vagina hurts just thinking about popping out a baby!” I wailed.
Perhaps I was being a tad dramatic. While I always told myself I wouldn’t have children because of my medical condition, I was traumatised by the series finale of ER.
A married couple comes in with the woman going into labor with twins, and John Carter (Noah Wyle) and Simon Brenner (David Lyons) handle the delivery. During the delivery of the second baby, complications set in. It is discovered that the mother has an inverted uterus, and requires an emergency caesarean section. The second baby requires intensive care, and the mother ultimately dies as surgeons attempt to fix the complications. they were trying to push her womb back in!
I glanced at Dev “You will be my surrogate. Johnny will be my baby daddy.” I mused.
Dev groaned. “Seriously, Becky!” she laughed.
“You might have to talk it over with G,” I sighed I hugged her. “I am sure he will understand. I just dont know how Johnny’s wife will react!”
Everyone burst out laughing.
I cocked my head thoughtfully, while I poured a smoothie. “I dont understand why evolution hasnt made it so men can carry babies.”
We all looked at each other and we laughed. “Men carry babies!”
“They cant even handle a cold!” I wheezed.
“Where would the baby pop out?”
“Out their ass?” I suggested.
Everyone shuddered at that image. “Gross, Becky! Come on!”
“Can you imagine them trying to handle the cramps. Or changing the diapers?”
It was one of those conversations I like to have with my drive thru team. It did make me wonder why I was so afraid to have children. Certainly, it had to do more than pain, or the fear of my meds making them deform? Perhaps I was afraid I would be a horrible mother.