Knocked Up: Rated Holy #$&! Did I Just See That?!
Monday, May 7th, 2007
Last week, I went to a screening for the new movie, Knocked Up, and I absolutely cannot get it out of my mind. And not in a good way.
No matter what you call it; preggers, bun in the oven, with child, knocked up, in the family way–it scares the bejezzus out of me. The whole idea that you basically gestate this other person for nearly a year and then after it’s out of you, you become a source of food…well…it’s totally sci-fi. Once I started down this path of realization, I’ve never looked at my boobs the same way again. Boobs are weird anyway. They’re essentially ticking time bombs that turn on us with the ubiquity of breast cancer. I digress.
So this movie. Before the loss of my innocence, I was excited and had been looking forward to taking Kit and some friends from work along with me for a movie that looked to be cute and funny. And yeah, it is hilarious. Really hilarious. Go see it. Just know (maybe it will change between now and when it’s released) that you seriously see EVERYTHING when she’s popping that thing out. Not once, not twice; but like rapid fire they pelt you with cooter shots. Full-fledged-baby’s-head-poking-out shots. Close ups. Screaming in the background. Nastiness.
In a crowded theater of press and free loaders like myself, the peels of laughter and screams of horror were harrowing…
“Make it stop! Make it stop!”
“Good lord!”
“No, not again!”
“Is it safe to look?”
“Holy shit!”
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!! My eyes! My eyes!”
Not since the Blair Witch Project have I hunkered down in my seat and covered my eyes in fear as I did during this screening.
I don’t want to see a girl’s cooter as she’s giving birth. I don’t care if it’s a “miracle” or that it’s a “gift” that only women get to experience. I don’t want to see, imagine, or think about the disaster that becomes the lower region during said birthing process. And I don’t want to see, imagine, or think about others seeing it. Seriously, ew.
Makes me especially appreciate my mom this Mother’s Day.
I do not know how the human race is continually perpetuated when it relies on such a barbaric and, frankly, completely gross experience.
You are not alone. It is completely terrifying to me. Therefore I am definitely going to avoid this movie, in case maternal instinct ever kicks in and I actually feel the urge to reproduce.
Ick.
I’ve seen a documentary “money shot” before. My response was: how is that physically possible?!
Seriously, right?
I do want kids, but I can’t handle the idea of the war zone down below. I’ll be shocked if I can actually pop anything out (I have zero childbearing hips), so I’ll probably be one of those poor souls that is made to go through like 22 hours of hell and then told, “yeah, guess we’re just gonna do a C-section.” Totally hateful.
okay – i fully agree. first of all, there’s this *thing* with nails swimming around your abdomen. secondly it will suck every last nutrient out of you and leave you dead if you let it.
i attended my nephew’s birth. i got a little placenta blood splattered on my forehead.
did not seem so beautiful then.
Wow. I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth…
That’s the beauty of gestation. For 8 months and 3 weeks, you hyperventilate at the thought of labor, and then you don’t care how it comes out as long as it gets the f*#k out.
Three L&D rules: no mirror, no touching it before it’s completely out, and no audience in the delivery room. Nobody wants to see that, and you don’t want to be seen like that.
I think I’ll be okay with giving birth simply because I won’t be able to SEE my own cooter stretch out like that. Gah. If someone tries to put a mirror up they’ll end up with shards of it in their throat.