Fear of the pain? No…more accurately described as fear of failure. What kind of mother will I be? Hands explore a surface so hard and round and prom...sing, feeling that pulse of life within, wishing I could look like this forever and have someone to whisper to. And then the pain came, and I wonder why I was not in fear of it. Pain like a river, a waterfall, an earthquake…pain like a volcanic eruption that makes me scream and scream and scream. So much pain to deliver a life so small. Giving. They all seemed to be waiting for the punch line.Inga, who was about to have the first of her many fantasies come true, looked nervous. She looked around the room quickly and then stared at the carpet in front of her and waited for the men do whatever they wanted to do with her.It started to look like none of my friends had any balls. I knew they were still trying to figure out if I was pulling some kind of joke on them. I thought I might get things going if I did something to demonstrate that. More

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