Birthing through Liposuction

They say motherhood is a beautiful thing. They say it is an experience whose profundity is unparalleled - one whose scope transcends all tools of definition available to Man. "It'll change you forever." Yeah, you'll be changed alright. But the metamorphosis will not be one of promised spiritual enlightenment. Instead, you will awake and find yourself transformed into a walking four lane highway stretch mark. Double yellow lines and all. A tollbooth, even.

And here, you console yourself, confident that you will never contract this disease. You have an arsenal of defenses: birth control, lack of reproductive organs, etc. But what you neglect to consider is that there is something worse than this nine month slash rest of your life walrus sized body invasion. Yes, worse. Hard to imagine, I know.

What’s worse is watching the gradual expansion, the steady hip widening and ass growth, the new cellulite pockets appearing daily beneath a thin cloak of fitted maternity wear. Someone get me a fork. Or a rusty nail. The only way out of this is to pull the Oedipus-inspired stabbing out the eyes maneuver. Ahhh, ol’ reliable. (Rich in drama, but just think of the literary merit.)

Considering childbirth? How about considering those around you first? Think about what your misguided passing-on-the-seed nightmare decision will do to our visual environment. Don’t think your hormonal outbursts, tales of midwifery woe, or birthing pool photos will console us. Seriously, they won’t. If anything, they will make us want to give you an industrial vacuum. And some heavy duty trash bags.