Procreation, where would we be without it eh? It’s why we’re here, it’s how we got here. If our parents [fingers in ears, blah-di-blah-di-blah, I can’t hear you time] hadn’t indulged in a bit of ‘ow’s yer father then we wouldn’t be here. This might be hard to believe but they did do it, you know. They did the dirty deed. Sex. They had it. With each other. I can’t promise you it was good but it DID happen. Consequently, your biological father impregnated your biological mother, and then you came along. The most natural thing in the world. Really?
I’ll spare you the gory details of conception. If you want to know them, Im not sure I want you to continue reading. Pregnancy, though, pregnancy’s beautiful. A miracle of nature. Nine months spent wafting about, bathing the world in your ethereal glow, while you incubate the future prime minister/nobel prize winner/Big Brother contestant growing inside you. Stop! Let us not perpetuate this myth a minute longer. LIES, LIES, LIES. Don’t get me wrong, it’s worth it. I’d do it again in an irregular heartbeat but, by jingo, it was an ordeal. I didn’t waft about nor did I glow. I couldn’t even stuff my face with glee abandon. In retrospect, it could have been a lot worse but at the time I really couldn’t see how…TBC*
*I’m still finding my feet with this. I’m not really sure what form notyouraveragebaby.com will take but I don’t expect it to continue as a serialisation of my memoirs. It’s not meant to be about me, after all, and really, who wants to read the diary of a nobody**? Be patient with me.
**The Diary of a Nobody by George and Weedon Grossmith is a different kettle of fish altogether. I heartily recommend that you *do* read that.
Not Your Average Baby 