The foetus is a parasitic organism for the host, the mother. The strangest thing is why the mother’s immune system does not mount its war-horse and go after the parasite as it does with other ‘invaders.’
Both the mother and the foetus are users. The mother needs the foetus as a vessel to transfer her DNA to, for the genes, the mother is a tomb. They must jump ship.The foetus needs the mother to enter the world.
We are told that this mother-foetus thing is ‘love,’ but remember elsewhere we have defined ‘love’ as a hormone dump combined with the desire of the unborn egg to come to fruition.
The foetus quickly sets about redirecting blood flows from the mother to itself exacting a supply of nutrients. The foetus also secretes insulin-suppressing hormones, boosting blood sugar levels for itself–an action that can push the mother into a pre-diabetic situation.
In the early months of pregnancy the immune system itself is suppressed. The degraded system then allows the parasite foetus to form unabated.
Nausea, puking, during pregnancy is an evolutionary development. The body initiates vomiting to clear possible toxins in food and water whilst the immune system remains suppressed in the early months of pregnancy.
Think back to the state of affairs one hundred thousand years ago or more. Food sources were doubtful, toxins in abundance.
Now, everyone who dies, ‘was a great person.’ Yet the world is full of nasty shits. Why this is, I’ve dealt with elsewhere. Likewise every baby is beautiful and intelligent–according to the parents and especially the mother. We know this is nonsense, because if it were true would this world not resemble Paradise? Every person a Saint!
What’s really going on is the mother and father are high as kites on hormones. The word hormone comes from the Greek, ‘to urge on.’ So every baby is wonderful. The parents must believe this, for just consider the massive investment they are making in the offspring. The fertilization of an egg marks the beginning of the end for the parents. They have on the hormonal blinders. This self-delusion in parents seems essential.
It’s hard to listen to people say how wonderful their kids are and keep a straight face. There are indeed some beautiful babies who will grow to be geniuses, but these are few and far between. In fact, the number of ‘good’ babies should match to perfection the number of good adults, and anyone save for greenhorns knows this latter number is always infinitesimal.
All the dead were excellent people, and all babies are beautiful geniuses. But in between being a baby and being dead things seem to get a bit dodgy.