I’m not the most maternal of females. I’ve never had any desire to harvest a small child inside my womb before painfully thrusting it out with no guarantee that my genitals will ever fully recover from the trauma.
When random colleagues bring their babies into the office and other women flock over hoping to score a sniff of his or her head, I tend to keep a safe distance.
It’s not that I dislike babies or children… I just don’t have that innate maternal desire that seems to drive a lot of women (and men) to procreate. It’s just never been a thing for me.
You’ve probably guessed by now that until last year, I knew nothing about babies or pregnancy. But then, my sister birthed a human child. Understandably, I immediately fell in love with said human and now my brain is full of Tommee Tippee and muslin blankets (yes, those are real things I had genuinely never heard of previously).