At that moment I was struck with a revelation, or something.
One thing I do know about babies is that sometimes, they just fucking scream and scream and scream, even after you feed them, change their shitty diapers, rock them, burp them, whatever. (This is one of many reasons why I won't be crapping one out. Like, ever.) The kid's not sick or injured, nothing seems to be really wrong, and it just keeeeeeps on screeching it's little lungs out.
What if the kid has an itch?
Imagine having a heinous itch, lacking the ability to scratch it, or to tell anyone the problem? Meanwhile, someone keeps sticking a bottle or a tit in your mouth, bouncing you up and down, thumping on your back, and talking retardo coochie-coochie baby talk in your face. I think I'd scream my guts out too. That's torture. Poor, cute little bastards.
One more reason not to have 'em, if you ask me. Babies, that is. Itches I can handle.