Here’s what I didn’t say.
Babies come from hot nights and too many drinks.
Babies come from poor decisions, conversations with girlfriends in bathrooms packed with other women with makeup slowly running down their faces, and from packed clubs full of sweaty, straining bodies.
Babies come from broken condoms, and “I’m on the pill” and “I’ll pull out” and screams of “Oh God!! Do it!!!”
I won’t tell her that babies are made amidst moans of pleasure and hands sliding over bare skin, and open mouth kisses that taste of toothpaste and lust.
I didn’t mention that babies are created in a moment of fractured ecstasy where you belong to another; body and soul.
A time when a woman’s body is punctured and stroked and strains to join with that of a man.
Babies begin in online dating forums where lonely people look to meet each other for a night or a weekend or a lifetime and you can’t who is worth spending time with and who is going to become your next stalker.
Sometimes babies are made by ticking clocks, charts and graphs and monitors. Injections and schedules. Microscopes and doctors.
Babies can be made of desperation, “don’t leave me,” and empty marriages made of people with empty eyes who look to fill their lives with someone else’s.
Babies can be born of love, hate, loneliness, fear, boredom, and lust.
That’s where babies come from.