A Rant on Pregnancy

For your information, I am a woman. But I feel that I do have a very masculine personality. I like guns, knives, cars, all that stuff. I have a boyfriend, but I am also sexually attracted to women.

And you know what? I hate pregnancy. No, no, hear me out. Think about it. You know what it looks like to me? It looks like cancer when cancer has been allowed to run amok. You know those specials on the Discovery channel or whatever about those people in underdeveloped countries (insert Politically Correct phrase where I put “underdeveloped countries) who have some kind of mass growing on them wherever? That’s what pregnancy looks like to me, only on the inside. I’ve had several friends who have had children. The woman I’m training under at work is currently pregnant. The more I hear from them, the less I EVER want to be pregnant. Okay, yeah, maybe I could get used to the idea of raising a child. But being pregnant myself? Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen.

I like my body just the way it is, thank you. Okay, maybe I don’t have the perfect C cups or the perfect 24″ waist. But I like my body the way it is. I don’t want to feel like I have to pee all the time because there’s however many pounds of baby sitting on my bladder. I don’t want the wind knocked out of me thanks to a sharp kick coming from inside. I don’t want the smell of food cooking to make me nauseous. I don’t want to wake up in the morning and have to rush to the bathroom to throw up, every morning for three months. I don’t want to go through the backaches and the headaches and the possible carpal tunnel and heavy, sore breasts and stretch marks and weight that’s hard to lose and cravings and sensitivity to EVERYTHING and not being able to go about my normal life because I have to worry about the creature inside me. I don’t want to see myself growing bigger and bigger and bigger and feeling like a f’n manatee walking on land and having to sit with my legs open to accommodate the weight on my stomach without cutting off circulation to my legs. I don’t want to deal with crazy hormones making me cry for everything and get frustrated and making me hate my life and then five minutes later be in love with everything. (Okay, maybe the hormone thing is a little exaggerated). But seriously, I don’t want all that.

Sure, the act that leads to pregnancy is great. I’ll be the first to tell you that. But it’s not fair. The male gets to have an orgasm. The female gets all kinds of horrible consequences, immense pain, and most of the caring for the child. My current boyfriend wants kids someday, and it’s the only problem that I have with being with him. I don’t EVER want kids. and I really love being in a relationship with him, but the kids thing is SO not for me. That’s a huge sacrifice. Not just the physical stuff. Kids are super expensive and time consuming. And you know what? I’m strong enough to admit that I’m selfish. I want my money to go to what I want. I don’t want to have all my money go to things I know I need for the child and have to put what I want in the “Unattainable Dreams and Desires” folder. I want to be able to go out with my husband (whoever he may be) whenever I want, without having to set up a babysitter. I want to be able to be intimate with my husband without worrying about little knuckles knocking on the door and interrupting us. I don’t want the screaming and the crying and the messes and the… well, frankly, everything that kids bring into your life. I want to live my life without having someone dependent on me. I want to do what I want to do without considering how it would affect the very thing that I (and my husband) created. If my husband (whoever he may be) wants kids, he can carry them himself or we can adopt. Cuz it’s not gonna be me going through all of that, thank you very much. He wants ’em, he can carry ’em.


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