The plus symbol.

25 years of retribution starts with the passionate union between two bodies of the opposite sex. Whether this act of sweet joining takes place in a thorny bush, or steamy shower, or on a bed of roses, does not really matter, for the result is usually the same.
For women, the price that comes with the pleasure of the union is exorbitantly high.

Normally, you have an approximately 2o days after the 'loving' to enjoy your freedom before fierce hormones begin their wreckage in your body.
The first sign of imminent danger is the escalating libido level. Suddenly, your frigidity has been miraculously cured. You want "it" 24/7. Before you know it, you have become a nymph in just a short time.
I always advise my friends (especially the men) who are in that situation to enjoy every minute of those libidinous days - for when manic morning sickness hits, a single thought of coupling is enough to get you locked up for homicide or worse.
Have you ever wondered why they call it morning sickness? I have, and I think its stupid they call it that. The crazy condition does not give a damn what time of day it is to strike - anytime is hell time.
I had to walk around with a plastic bag during both my pregnancies just to avoid regurgitating on other furious beings. At one point I almost choked on my puke trying to find the nearest toilet in town.
Besides the evil retching, morning sickness also brings with it a terrible heartburn that radiates your soul. Pregnancy is such a messy business.

Still in denial about everything happening, and feeling like a rotten piece of meat, the last thing you want is some pedantic, fogy of a doctor to be telling you some "its good news" bull. So you take matters in the hands of the little, heartless stick of reckoning. A mark of urine in form of a plus or minus mathematical symbol holds your destiny. When it comes to the truth, that little stick tells it in the most brutal manner possible.
The minute it takes for the result to season is more nerve-wrecking than having to wait for the jury reach a verdict for a murder you did not commit.

Before you know it, your whole body mutates into a huge scary planet. You make frequent visits to the loo a century times more than a common inebriate who is forever in a pub.
You cant sleep or bend. You walk with legs apart like an gonorrhoea-hampered brass. Life seems tediuosly dull for you.

After almost 90 days of the horrible morning sickness, another 90 of incessant peeing and another 90 of looking like an obese hippo, a day or two of unutterable pain that makes morning sickness seem like a leisurely work out, in comparison, follows. Then after what seems like a million excruciating pushes, a big head pops out of your body, covered in guts, blood and other inexplicably disgusting stuff. One squeaky scream marks the end of your freedom forever.
Congratulations, you've just created your own "pooping bill-generator"!