What a small, contemptible, inhumane vision this pseudonymously named Albert Garland has. He and his wife are expecting twins this summer. He calls it their “nightmare.” Look:
To say we’re excited would be an exaggeration. More truthfully, we’re pissed. And terrified, and angry, and guilty, and regretful. Why regretful? Because we brought this on ourselves. This is what we wanted, so to speak.
Yes, they had fertility treatments, which were expensive, and damaged their relationship. These consumers wanted a girl, but got two boys instead. “My initial reaction was full of disappointment, anger, fear, and guilt,” says the dad. Mom was even less happy. And then:
As horrible as this might sound, we found ourselves wishing these twins away.
Dear God, we wanted one girl, but we got two boys. Would you please give us a reason to justify killing them? Seriously, that’s what this man says. They were disappointed that the boys had no genetic anomalies that would have given them a moral justification for exterminating them in their mother’s womb.
And now they dread the future. More:
Our fear is not the new parent fear of the unknown. It’s the smart, informed fear of the known. Our biggest nightmare is that we’ll have colic again, or double colic.
Their biggest nightmare. Think about that.
This time around, we’re counting down — not like expecting parents but like cancer patients with only months to live. Enjoy life while you can, for soon it’s double the diapers, double the feedings. Half of zero sleep is … less than zero?
So tell me how this isn’t going to suck.
You know what, Albert Garland? It’s going to suck far, far worse for those poor boys. I wish you and that princess wife of yours would give those babies up for adoption to a home where they will be welcomed and cherished. Your think your punishment is having twins you don’t want in the house. Your real punishment is having to be you.
Look, anybody who has had kids knows it’s hard, and sometimes really incredibly hard. But that is part of the blessing. Maybe it’s the essence of it — learning to put the needs of others ahead of your own.
This is the result of commodifying children — seeing them as products meant to make us happy rather than people meant to be loved. It’s one of the saddest things I’ve read in quite a while, comparing the approaching birth of sons to a cancer diagnosis. I hope this man learns to live for something bigger than his own pleasure and that his sons never know of what he’s said here.
UPDATE: I posted above a photo I took in a Baton Rouge parking lot this morning. Yeah you right!