Artificial Insemination Through the Lens of a Child

How My Journey into Motherhood Clashes Uncomfortably with Commonly Accepted Societal Practices

Photo by Deon Black on Unsplash

I have a memory of being a young girl and seeing my father’s gloved arm shoved elbow deep into the rear end of a cow as he inserted a metal device into her vaginal canal (this device is called, rather horrifically but unfortunately accurately, a “rape rack”). At the time, I had no knowledge whatsoever of the intricacies of sexuality, of my own body, or of the workings of the male body, but I still felt deep, visceral discomfort, my young self empathically feeling the indignity of the violation occurring as she was “artificially inseminated,” even as I didn’t quite understand what exactly what was occurring.

One might think that with being in such close proximity to the workings of nature, that a child would have a rich understanding of the realities of the natural world and reproduction. But that couldn’t be further from my reality. My parents enlisted me to be their informant if I saw “a cow giving another cow a piggyback ride,” and identify her markings so that they would know if she may become pregnant. And I do recall watching a cow labor once, her calf ultimately dropping rather cruelly onto the concrete upon which she birthed.