This is an excerpt from Born in Death by Nora Roberts.

She was a cop, a Homicide Lieutenant with eleven year on the job protecting and defending the hard, merciless streets of New York. There was little she hadn't seen, touched, smelled or waded through. Because people, to her mind, would always and could always find more inventive and despicable ways to kill their fellow man, she knew just what torments could be inflicted on the human body.
But bloody and brutal murder was nothing compared to giving birth.
How all those women with their bodies enormous and weirdly deformed by the entity gestating inside them could be so cheerful, so freaking placid about what was happening - and going to happen - to them was beyond her scope.
But there was Mavis Freestone, her oldest friend, with her little pixie body engulfed by the bulge of belly, beaming like a mental defective while images of live birth played out on the screen.
...Maybe pregnancy stopped certain signals from getting to the brain.
...She'd rather study a crime scene recording - mass murder, mutilation, severed limbs - than look up at some laboring woman's crotch and watch a head pop out.


I actually think pregnancy is much worse than this.