The 1975 book How A Baby Is Made doesn’t leave out any disturbing details.
Never judge a book by its cover.
“It begins when a man and a woman find love, despite their horrendous fashion choices.”
Then things get a little more NSFW.
“The man and the woman strip down, but stay in the same awkward back patting pose.”
“The man releases four cartoonishly large sperms into the woman’s lady balloon while they breathe into one another’s mouths. Neither of them so much as blinks.”
“Just like an olive in a martini glass, the zygote floats aimlessly.”
Now back to this pose, still naked.
Hey bro, if the fetus is the size of a cocktail shrimp, you can probably put your pants back on.
At least they get dressed to go to the hospital.
What a couple of hippies.
Then the birthing process be—OH MY GOD!
Have fun trying to sleep tonight! (Also, why is the doctor at that end of the bed holding something that looks like a hammer? No anesthesia?)
“Why won’t you love me?”
Looks suspiciously like the doctor, to be honest.