To eat or not to eat ... babies

I used to subscribe to Jonathan Swift’s satirical essay on the merits of eating babies, whilst simultaneously waxing indignant on human over-population of the world with a rallying cry of ‘Birth Control not War!’

However, this slogan if instigated would promptly cut 80% of news, violence, current affairs and 100% of arms-trading, paradoxical statues of war heroes, Peace Prizes - not to mention putting the mockers on a glut of glory. A large percentage of the populace would promptly kick the bucket - often metaphorically in the new non-violent civilisation - with boredom. So humans would be off doing all that foolish procreating all over again and Getting Carried Away.

This is bad news for anyone with OCD who is terrified of babies and children, if not yet of adults. This appears to be in reverse order to most British adults who seem frightened of each other, but fairly relaxed around offspring. Personally, there was a period where I couldn’t stay in the same room as a pregnant woman, without becoming convinced that I was causing damage to her unborn child - or if I wasn’t, would be, by something I said or did very shortly. People would wonder why I was being stand-offish, or appeared to have a form of Lockjaw.

Fortunately then in the circumstances, my own maternal instincts emerged belatedly and wilted from lack of nurture. Otherwise there could have been an unfortunate infant in a similar position, because I as their mother was unable to touch them.

Parents unaware of the paralysing spell of OCD might exclaim: ‘Pah, Nature would overcome it - of course you’d cuddle your little baby!’

No, I might very well not. Not if I was having one of those deadly moments, when a horrifically graphic film sequence kicks off in a heart-beat, featuring me centre-brain harming my infant.

Some time ago I saw a very sad woman in her late 30s, who had unexpectedly become affected by OCD, being interviewed on a TV show. She said quietly that she was suddenly unable to touch her children. The camera soon swung away from her - it must be quite dispiriting for TV producers if they hope that an OCD-sufferer will give them a dramatic interview and raise viewing figures – but, as is often the case with OCD, the poor woman’s inner turmoil scarcely showed on the outside.

Helen Poskitt