Insanely, some women don’t want to have children. I recruited one of my best friends to write a little across-the-aisle piece on why not to have children. She’s like a second-tier best friend—not close enough that she’d give me a kidney, but close enough that I could steal her kidney.
Hi, everyone! I’m Megan’s friend. We met in a laundromat once when she was trying to steal my kidney. And I’m here to say: no babies, please!
Most girls have the same life goals—date a boy, get voted homecoming queen (popular and electoral votes), get married, take a picture of a Chupacabra, renew your vows, get divorced, renew your divorce vows, eat a pie behind a middle school, get remarried, and have a baby. Call me crazy, but no baby for me, please! I want my life to be fun and easy, not, as Shakespeare might say, “done and queasy” (SOURCE: “Oxford English Rhyming Dictionary”).
Pregnancy is just a mess. It’s like you’re a turducken: a woman stuffed with a fetus stuffed with the turducken that you eat every day for breakfast. Your clothes stop fitting, and you have to start buying pants/quinceañera dresses/quinceañera tiaras with elastic waists. You have to start eating and mainlining for two. Sometimes you can’t help but sample the cocoa butter that you’re putting on your stretch marks. And I want to keep my figure! (For those of you who haven’t met me, I’m five foot ten, 120 pounds, 34DDD, my name is Heidi Klum, and I’m the model Heidi Klum.)
Have you ever seen a baby? Or, if you’re blind, have you ever touched a baby’s face and smelled a baby’s face and used echolocation to tell what color it is? They are crazy nasty-looking. Also, they’re passive-aggressive and love to give the silent treatment. Also, they always try to out-pants-poop me in a pants-pooping contest (as of October 28, 2014, I’m still undefeated).
Some more fun facts: an average baby is approximately six metres long and thirty-one fluid ounces in metric circumference; in comparison, a normal vagina is at most one kilolitre in diametre (SOURCE: British Association of Metric Measurements and Also Obstetrics). Pushing a baby out of your body is like pushing a watermelon through your vagina, and, trust me, that was not a fun Cancun Spring Break 2004 drinking game. The only thing I want coming out of my body is a contented sigh when I’ve eaten an extra-tasty Toblerone in my baby-free bachelorette pad filled with non-baby-proofed coffee-table corners and sharp Toblerone vending machines.
How about the money issues? I can’t afford a child, let alone a kid. With modern science, babies will soon live to be one hundred years old and will grow to be thirty feet tall. Do you realize how much it costs to buy baby food for one hundred years? Diapers alone are thousands of dollars each, if you subscribe to the old wives’ tale that you should use only Gutenberg Bible pages as diapers. I need all the money I can get for adult things like coffins and tax-themed Mad Libs. People with babies don’t get to be adults anymore. I would hate to give up my right to my height-restricted dinner parties. Call me crazy and Heidi Klum, but I just don’t think it’s worth it.
Sure, sometimes I get bored and lonely without a baby. There are only so many times you can stage an intervention for your blow-up sex-doll gal pal, even though she really needs to know that she doesn’t have to sleep with guys just to feel pretty. And there are only so many times you can buy three blow-up sex-dolls and pretend to be “Sex and the City.” But even though my biological clock might be saying, “Have a baby,” my biological cell-phone voicemail message is saying, “Enjoy your twenties and don’t have a baby,” and my biological fridge is saying, “Eat that cottage cheese, it’s still good.”
So, trust me: babies are the worst. No babies, no staying up all night. No having to share the strained peas and mashed pears you’ve always enjoyed solo. No having to give them fake names like Apple or Anderson Cooper. Always remember, babies are for the weak. And listen to my biological mouth when it says, “My name is Heidi Klum.”
–Heidi Klum
Megan Amram reads "No Babies, Please!":
Copyright © 2014 by Megan Amram. From the forthcoming book “SCIENCE . . . FOR HER!” by Megan Amram to be published by Scribner, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc. Printed by permission.
