Why writing an essay is like giving birth

I have, thankfully never given birth. Perhaps one day I will, and think of this article. I am of course aware, that in the real world, actually giving birth looks like an extremely painful and horrible thing to do. You're squeezing new life out of somewhere that looks too small for it…we don't really need to go into detail. We've all seen someone give birth (in real life or just on tv) and I think we can all agree it looks bloody awful.
 

So, that is my first point. I haven't given birth. I have no children. However, I have written a lot of essays. Essays go hand in hand with my lovely Philosophy and Literature degree. In fact, I do so many essays I have one due in about 8/9 hours time, which I've taken a break from to write this inspiring piece of literature.
 

Over the past few hours I've realised essay writing and childbirth have a lot in common.

First of all, you prep yourself with comfy clothes, a blanket, a few snacks. Maybe your mum will be extra nice to you if she knows about it, and not phone you to ask if you're on drugs or enquire into whether your room is tidy from 200 miles away in an Eastern European accent (although it may just be mine who does that). You sit in your little comfort zone, prepped to whack your final piece of work for the year out. You're feeling calm; you're feeling full of zen and happiness. You're ready to give birth to your essay baby, and you're going to do it in a dignified way. Kind of like you'd think a real expectant mother would act. Nervous, but excited at first. 

Then the shit hits the fan for the first time. You open up word – or start getting contractions if you're giving birth, or something – and then you realise 'Fuck. What is this? I can't do this? On my own? Why don't I understand these questions?!' You panic and you freak out. Already your calm and beautiful environment is a state of chaos and fear. You may have a cigarette or a break and if it's not too urgent, not come back to it for a while. The contractions aren't too far apart, and you get another couple of hours or so before you have to face up to what you're going to have to do – or you feel your deadline is not so close that you cannot chill out and watch an entire series of Peep Show.

Unfortunately, my pregnant/essay burdened friends, the time will come when you absolutely have to do it. There will be no escape. You will sit in your room or the library, you will hastily pick your question. If you're uber prepared, you'll have a few references at your side (but they'll probably seem to make no sense in a few hours). You'll start breathing through your nose as you tentatively start trying to make as much bullshit seem as coherent as possible in a short amount of time.

You'll write 200 words and stop – “I can't do it any more" you say, and it is here where we introduce our imaginary friend the Essay Obstetrician! It gets tense, and there's no time to stop. The essay has got to be handed in, just like the baby is going to come out. At this point you're sad and tired and need a cup of tea. You seem to be so far in with the essay you can't pick another question, and you're fed up. You don't know if you're doing it right and all the people around you just give you little thumbs up and say “You're nearly there! Keep going! I'm proud of you!”, to which you reply with a bunch of expletives and insults. The end has never seemed so far away.

Every time you check that glorious and yet horrible word count, you think you're closer to the finish than you actually are. Essay Obstetrician is telling you to keep your breathing steady and to carry on. But writing the essay becomes more and more painful. Like a terrified woman in labour who may occasionally think “Why did I think this was a good idea?”, the terrified student with deadlines looming may think “Why did I think this was a good idea? WHY DID I COME TO UNI?!”

You push and you cry and you constantly look at the word count with dreams of it being nearly over, only to hear how you need to keep going. In your dishevelled state you start manically typing, including references from strange websites and ideas from the very depths of your mind. You stop every so often to scream “NO MORE! NO MORE!” breaking into silent sobs of desperation and chewing your notes, until finally, like a dream, our Essay Obstetrician starts saying; “Finally come on! One last big push! I can see the conclusion! I can see the conclusion!”. You push out those last few sentences with a new air about you! It's clever, original, and funny.

You hold your essay, fresh out of the printer and place it in the hub with all the other baby essays. Go home, have a drink, and say to yourself “Well, it wasn't too bad in the end. Maybe next time I should remember that!”.

Although, of course, it never gets any easier. Deep down you know it is all going to happen again. Especially if you're prone to procrastination and the like…