A bad night

I never wanted kids. I’m 33 years old, and not once during those years have I felt the clock ticking, felt a biological need to reproduce. I don’t even care if my genes lives forward, I don’t think my genes are worth keeping. I would have been perfectly happy with a childless life.

Now I’m seven months pregnant, and it has been an emotional journey. Yesterday it really hit home worse than I have experienced before – birth anxiety. It comes when I’m going to bed, supposedly to sleep. That’s the time of the day when everything goes quiet – except my mind. I was supposed to go to bed, but instead I ended up crying hard for 30 minutes before my boyfriend dragged me to bed and managed to calm me down a little bit. I want to stop eating in hopes that the size of the kid will be less. I don’t want to go through birth.

I’m not so sure I slept anything, but at 2am I woke up with a gallstone attack. I took the regular painkillers that are slow in the working, and around 5am the pain subsided. That’s when I started crying for another 30 minutes, terrified of giving birth. In the end I was so exhausted from the ordeal that I managed to go to bed to sleep.

I have since stayed in bed. I don’t want to leave, I’m not dealing with this. There’s nothing natural about being pregnant. As a former coworker of mine stated: Taking a piss and walking is normal, you do that every day. Pregnancy (and birth) is not natural, it’s a burden on the body. Before the hospitals and the medicinal knowledge today, how many women died in childbirth? I actually checked to see if there was any death related to child birth today, but I didn’t find any. I guess it’s so rare that there isn’t even statistics on it. Which isn’t necessarily good, because if I die then may be I don’t have to give birth. Or – I could die and then they can just take the baby out of the body. Who cares what happens to the body after death. It wouldn’t matter then.