˚₊‧꒰ა Noelle !!♡

I am violently aroace, lesbian, and transgender, and ever since hitting puberty and realizing that my body could in theory become pregnant, I have been viscerally opposed to the idea of birthing children.

To be very clear: that's not to say that I don't ever want to raise a kid. It's very possible that I may want to adopt or foster one day.

However, none of that really explains my assertion that pregnancy is body horror.

For starters, the obvious. Just the birthing process alone is horrifying when described using different terminology. It's basically just pushing a separate, living creature out of one of the most sensitive orifices in your body, accompanied by staggering amounts of blood and other bodily fluids, and you also must dispose of the sac the creature grew in. The process is so often painful that you must have a giant needle stuck into your spinal cord to administer a medication that completely numbs you from the waist down. Sometimes, the other entity gets stuck, and you have to be cut open so that it can be removed. Sometimes, your internal organs can be badly damaged in the process, or even bleed out unexpectedly. There's also the concept of pregnancy itself. It's not unlike having a parasite growing inside you. In fact, were you to keep all the attributes of a human pregnancy, but replace the fetus with anything nonhuman in nature, we would balk and demand it be immediately removed for the safety of the host. There's this parasite, this other, growing inside you, and while it's there, you're prone to bouts of sickness, insatiable cravings, erratic mood swings, and tiredness, among other things. Your body distends and bloats, warped by the size of the parasite growing inside your internal organs. Your grotesquely distorted stomach is heavy, and it weighs you down so badly that your back is constantly in pain and everyday stuff like walking up and down stairs is made near-impossible. There could also be an argument made for postpartum body horror. You've birthed this parasite that grew inside you for 9 or so months, and you're relieved that you're free of it. However, your body will never look or work quite the same. No matter how much you excersise, no matter how much you try to tone your body, your stomach will never be as flat as it was before the pregnancy without an invasive cosmetic surgery. The arches of your feet flatten, making you go up a whole shoe size You lose some control over your bodily functions, too. You, more often than not, accidentally pee a little when you sneeze. For a while, your libido is almost non-existent, and when you are in the mood, you're almost incapable of naturally lubricating like you could before. If you've endured multiple births, it's much more likely that your pelvic floor and sex drive may never fully recover.

That's the strictly body horror aspect. However, the societal impacts of being pregnant are almost worthy of being put in the existential/psychological horror category.

I'll only go over three, because otherwise I'll freak my own self out. Trigger warning specifically for scenario 3, which discusses abortion, teen pregnancy, implied assault, and suicide.

The opinion that AFAB people's worth stems from their ability/willingness to birth children is spreading through the world at an alarming rate. However, society treats pregnant people as less than, diminishing you to little more than a broodmare or vessel designed solely to carry a child. After birth, if your sperm donor is not present, you are ridiculed and labelled as a slut or a whore, regardless of circumstance. If your sperm donor is present, you’re functionally ignored while the other parent, the one who did almost zero work, is glorified and praised. You are degraded and trivialized, no matter what. No matter how good you are, you will never be enough for them to see you as anything more than breeding stock.

Pregnancy is nowhere near being recognized for the traumatic physical experience that it is. You’re nauseous, dizzy, and exhausted, but you only have 12 weeks, maximum, of maternity leave. You don’t take off of work until just before your due date, even though it’s run you ragged. No one cares that you’re pregnant, not really. They all coo over the parasite growing inside you, and all they care about is it. They don’t care about the toll it takes on you. Your workload just piles higher and higher until you finally go on leave. Even then, you sit on your couch at home, tracking expenses and doing spreadsheets, because if you don’t, they’re likely going to fire you. No one cares that you’re dying inside. Maybe you should have just aborted.

Abortion access is so limited and stingy that many pregnant people are forced to take matters into their own hands. You’re only seventeen, and your hyper-religious father demanded that you carry this child that you never wanted to term. Your mother is fighting him on it, but he’s adamant, and your time is running out. You’re well past the six week mark, and the end of the first trimester looms closer every day. You’re scared, and although your mother tries her best to comfort you, all you can think about is what you would do to avoid birthing this child. It’s too late to use the pill, and legally, your mom can’t help you get the abortion you need without your father’s consent. You’ve considered trying the coat hanger thing you’ve heard about, but you’re too scared. None of the methods on Reddit are easily accessible to you, the high school junior without a car. The night before the first trimester ends, you decide to chance it. Before you know it, all of the painkiller bottles in the house are empty, and you’re trying not to gag. When you wake up, you’re in the hospital. The first thing your dad says when he sees you awake is “thank god you and the baby are okay.” And you decide, right then and there, that the second you have access to a blade, you’re going to finish it for good.

The existential horror of living with a hyper-religious parent and knowing that they would prioritize any hypothetical unborn child’s ‘life’ over yours is personal for me, but that’s the only nonfiction reference in any of the three scenarios.

there’s so much more to this concept, especially with how it pertains to creative writing, but I’m gonna leave that to other, more experienced authors.