The Ticking Time Bomb of Her Uterus

As my wife is on the brink of spawning new life, I am increasingly given to thoughts of biological horror wonder. That an eight-pound protosentient Thing can gestate inside my wife's abdomen and cause no visible alarm to my mate or anyone in her immediate vicinity is incomprehensible. There is no analog to this freakshow in life. You just don't see that kind of insane biological transmogrification outside of fiction.
Yeah, you don't care. You've seen babies all your life, and waddling fetus farms are nothing new. Still, it's freaky weird. And I want in.
Oh, I know that it's painful and annoying and a general emotional charnel house to be pregnant, not to mention the physical nightmare that is the actual birthing process, but still. Being able to push new life into being from your guts is an amazing super-power. What do I get? Nothing like that. Oh, sure, the super-strength, but I can't like throw cars or anything. Not that even that would compare with spawning baby humans. I'd be happy even spawning, I don't know, baby ferrets or something. It's still life. And probably less unwieldy to carry inside you.
But, alas, in the end, there's the whole absence of an appropriate birthing orifice, and I'm just not willing to repurpose an existing one, so I'm back to square one.
Here's the thing I realized, though, as I sat stripping an inch-long hangnail from my thumb the other day. The skin, at least according to wikipedia, makes up 15% of human body weight, and gets replaced every thirty days. Now, even being conservative, and saying that the only thing that actually gets sloughed off is the outer 1%, I'm still losing nearly three pounds of skin a month. Three pounds! I could have a mass of flesh the size of a respectable baby in two months if I collected it all in a box or a bag or a vat of some kind. Sure, it wouldn't be alive like a traditionally birthed baby is, but it also wouldn't cry much. And if you kept it all simmering in some kind of blood plasma solution to keep it moist and pliable, you leave all sorts of underground scientific options open. I mean, I don't know how to animate dead human tissue, but I'm sure someone out there does. And once I get that figured out, presto! Life will no longer be the exclusive domain of gods and women.
Not that I'd actually make a Skin Baby, though. I mean, I have two kids already (or will, any time now). I'm just saying. I could do it. If I really wanted to.

Comments

[Laura]

Don't undervalue your role, Dean, in your wife's parturition. Or what led up to it, anyway. Your contribution really is considerably more amazing than animating dead skin cells, which only requires hyperbaric oxygen, methylcholanthrene, and electricity.

Not that I would know.

[Bonnie]

Congratulations new father ! ! ! You have been blessed again.

[Mads]

Good luck with the new baby! It is a lot of work, and the father plays a big part in it, as you probably already know. Keep us posted!!!!!!!

p.s. I am Mads, a squeetuser. :o)

[Enna Isilee]

Yeah Dean, You have problems. Why a nice woman like Shannon married you I'll never know. But I'm sure she had her reasons so I'll pretend that this disgutsting entry is just.. well I don't know.

P.S. The Squeetusers are freaking out. Got any news on the babe(not the skin monster)?

[Enna Isilee]

Congrats on Magnolia! She's gorgeous!

[MAYday]

Ditto, and I love the name. Who's idea was it?

[Katee]

This is my first visit to your blog, Dean, and you are so cool. Shannon is very lucky to have a guy like you for a husband.

Enna Isilee - I'd have to disagree on your comment about a nice woman like Shannon marrying Dean. :) Dean rocks!

Oh, and congratulations on your darling Maggie Jane!

[Enna Isilee]

Katee,

Have you acutally compared Shannon and Dean's blogs?

But I have to agree only a true evil GENIUS could come up with such original stories/whatever his posts are.