Turned in my arms to find a breast to suckle. Finding nothing, he sucked at the air instead, gaining neither nourishment nor satisfaction.
Writhed against his confinement whether he was swaddled or not, as though trying to free himself from bonds that were interior to his psyche.
Reached out new hands for something firm to grab onto; found nothing but emptiness.
Screamed for hours without stopping.
Smacked his lips at the air and then screwed up his face in disgust, as though the atmosphere itself had grown foul and bitter.
Screamed while wallowing in his own poop, unable to escape the gross needs of his body.
Screamed while wallowing in his own pee. See previous.
Smoked unfiltered Gauloises while staring into the middle distance.
Slept for thirty minutes with a ferocious scowl on his face; no remedy for the malaise of existence, even in dreams.
Half woke from sleep, opening one eye and kicking wildly until, utterly depleted from the effort of rousing himself, he fell back asleep.
Took no interest in Deadwood, Season 1, even the part where Jack McCall killed Wild Bill Hickok; was already inured to the pointless entertainments we use to distract ourselves from the imminence of death.
Screamed until he passed out from exhaustion.
Drank his wine quickly, tasting nothing, inconsiderate of any need but to numb the wounds of consciousness.
Simultaneously tried to fall asleep and nurse at once. He is capable of only two desires in the world, and they are immediately in direct conflict with each other.
Vomited all over the onesie with a monster on it; every attempt to dress up the decaying meat of the body is met with failure, betrayed by the body’s very nature.
Thrashed wildly in his sleep, waking himself up, and then looked around bewildered by the very fact of being, his confusion equal parts the alienness of this new world and his own unconscious perturbations.
Wrote Being and Nothingness; could not find a suitable publisher.
Pooped so loud he startled himself awake – the transcendent universe of dreaming annihilated by the worst and most base aspects of material existence.
Just screamed and screamed and screamed.
I think you have put your finger on the real reason I don’t want babies.
I don’t like the idea of something this horrifying inside me! The secondhand smoke from the Gauloises alone…
I knew I shouldn’t have read that, now I’m twitchy with remembered exhaustion. Good job!
Stuffed his own fist in his mouth and gnawed furiously, so desperate for release from his flawed earthly vessel that he would consume it, not letting his lack of teeth get in the way.
I thoroughly enjoyed that on so many levels.
Your newborn may be the only one who understands my suffering.
I’m glad those days are behind me, TBH. Congratulations to you and yours on this voyage of discovery!
Of course, once he stops doing all that, its absence just reminds you of the tyranny and inevitability of time’s hand dragging you to the grave. Dumb empty universe.
Upon removal of his wet diaper, peed in his own ear. Cleanliness is fleeting and transitory: all efforts to remove the filth of the day are undercut by the filth of the present.
This reminds me of a Maria Bamford bit:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ivSf0-QQfw
It’s at the 4:45 mark
Yeah babies might be cute or whatever but I don’t need a little howling beast reminding me how soon I’m going to die.
I mean, if you did you might as well it a dog. They’re waaaay better at howling!
Last night my two-year-old spent about twenty minutes screaming in the throes of a night terror; when I picked him up, he hit me in the face, pulled my hair, and threw my glasses on the floor, presumably as punishment for introducing him to the unceasing horror of human existence.
I hope to God for your sake that this was a night terror and he’s not just an actual demon. It’s a damn fine line.
I have never experienced anything closer to an ACTUAL horror movie than my tiny son, shrouded in darkness but for heavy hallway backlighting, clawing at my face with wide-open, unseeing eyes. Including his previous night terrors! Even the one where he RAN AROUND THE HOUSE YELLING. Calling it “night terrors” rather than “demon possession” is 100% semantic wishful thinking.
oh, man, my brother and I both had fearsome night terrors growing up. There’s nothing to do for it, unfortunately, but to just wait it out — they’re like growing pains for the subconscious. The good news is, you can grow up pretty healthy except for a constant, lingering feeling of existential dread that hangs over every bit of good fortune you ever experience in life
Mine likes to pummel and claw my swollen, tender breasts while simultaneously kicking my C-section incision as I draw him close to nurse.
An instinctive hatred of his entry into the world and his means of sustaining himself in it.
Does he clamp down on the flayed nipples with hard mousetrap jaws? Good times.
YES. And then catapults himself away from me with his feet while still biting down. Good times indeed.
AHHHH my demonspawn used to bite down and PULL, then grin, black-eyed, when I yelled. The only solution I found was to lean into him, stonefaced, until he couldn’t pull any farther. No demonbaby is going to outsmart this demonLADY, nosir.
Thinking you need an afternoon out.
Ah, but a year from now, his life will have such purpose and meaning! He will begin the Great Work of cataloguing, for every object in the world, which other objects it does and does not fit into! He will gain dominion over animals by identifying them with their name and sound every time he espies them! He will gaze deeply into his own belly button and know it for what it is!
This is where we are RIGHT NOW. DIT! (Cat.) MaMA! (Mama. No, the other Mama. No, both Mamas.) DA! (I gave you a thing. You gave me a thing. I put a thing here.)
WHY CAN’T I GO IN THE FRIDGE WHY WHY WHY THE FRIDGE THE FRIDGE FRIIIIIIDGE OUT IS THE ONLY PLACE FRI.. Dit!
Someone needs to make a series of memes consisting of Samuel Beckett quotes on baby pictures.
Kind of like an anti-Anne Geddes
omg yes please!
These are all really your own actions, aren’t they. Don’t hide behind that poor baby, his life is bleak enough.
NO, I really liked Deadwood.
I think I just laughed out all my existential horror. This was one of the best things I’ve read here.
Refuses to suckle at his mother’s breast, resulting in agonized screaming when attempted. His fury at her for birthing him into this bleak existence outweighs his hunger.
Yup.
This might be my favorite thing on The Toast and that’s saying a lot.
Smoked unfiltered Gauloises while staring into the middle distance.
…Made me laugh-spit water all over my keyboard. And then contemplate the void. Thank you!
Too soon, will read in eighteen months when my baby can actually verbalize existential dread.
I was at a street fair and I took my baby (18 months) cousin to see the mini petting zoo there. As we were walking towards it he was watching intently and saying “animals…animals” and he seemed excited. Once we approached, he took a quick look at the animals (there were some goats, a donkey, a few geese), waited a beat, and then said “No. No no no no no no no no no…”
I guess the fear of the unknown just overwhelmed him. It was adorable though.
BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK.
I laughed way too hard at this. A+
After weeks of trying finally pulls himself up to standing with the coffee table. The table is bare, no reward for his efforts. After the triumph drains away he realizes he doesn’t know how to stop standing. Screams until I come sit him back down. Immediately stands again. Screams.
Between this post and this thing that I read today*, I am positively celebrating my success in completely avoiding motherhood.
*Particularly this part: The endometrium seals off our main blood supply from the newly implanted embryo. The growing placenta literally burrows through this layer, rips into arterial walls and re-wires them to channel blood straight to the hungry embryo. It delves deep into the surrounding tissues, razes them and pumps the arteries full of hormones so they expand into the space created. It paralyzes these arteries so the mother cannot even constrict them.
What this means is that the growing fetus now has direct, unrestricted access to its mother’s blood supply. It can manufacture hormones and use them to manipulate her. It can, for instance, increase her blood sugar, dilate her arteries, and inflate her blood pressure to provide itself with more nutrients.
(Apologies to anyone reading this who was still planning to have children)
Best line I’ve read today “Researchers, bless their curious little hearts, have tried to implant embryos all over the bodies of mice. ” Yep.
The stuff of nightmares.
It’s okay, I still want to have them even after reading this!
That is really fascinating/terrifying, though! Thanks for sharing!
I goddamn LOVE that piece.
D’awwwwwwwwww.*
* Too soon?
AHHHH my demonspawn used to bite down and PULL, then grin, black-eyed, when I yelled. The only solution I found was to lean into him, stonefaced, until he couldn't pull any farther. No demonbaby is going to outsmart this demonLADY, nosir.
Hilarious and with all this…this mama of two sons is willing to bet you irrationally love your newborn child to pieces, poop, screaming and all 😉
Hilarious and with all this…this mama of two sons is willing to bet you irrationally love your newborn child to pieces, poop, screaming and all 😉
This is proof of the existence of a malevolent God with the blackest sense of humor EVER.
These read like excerpts from a Werner Herzog documentary on babies.
….and yet people always ask one, why no second child??
Attempted to suckle at the breasts of other women, women who are not his mother, who have never been mothers, whose breasts have nothing to offer him, in the process searching for comfort and sustenance from many who appear to be a source of life but leave him wanting of nourishment.