Thankfully, I’ve never had a miscarriage. But if I did, I think I would be like Kelsey Weekman and spend my recovery watching Jackass. Because nothing brings me joy quite like watching Johnny Knoxville, Steve-O, Wee Man, and the rest of the gang be idiots together:
It’s not really a secret that pregnancy and childbirth are also pretty much nonstop body horror, from morning sickness to labor. I spent many of my brief pregnant days violently nauseous—not puking up a live goldfish like Steve-O, but surrendering my body to unknown trials I just have to believe I can overcome. I haven’t made it close enough to motherhood to turn this all into a metaphor about suffering for the expansive, life-altering love of a child. I just know that anything worth having is worth hurting for: male friendship, a really funny video, a legacy and so on.
More stories about friendship
Johnny Knoxville, America’s God of Mischief
“What moves the star of ‘Jackass’ to risk his life for our entertainment? A very serious investigation.”
Are Crows Really Our Friends?
“An investigation into the state of corvid–human relations.”
I Spent Months with an AI Companion. It Was Worse than Being Alone
“I hated the mindless reassurance and generic empathy.”
