Picture this: a pair of sharp hooves and a giant head covered in slimy goop force themselves, almost in slow motion, out of the most delicate part of a giraffe.

Is that something you really want to see? You’d better be absolutely sure—like, tattoo-it-on-your-facesure—before you glue yourself to the livestream of April, the giraffe about to give birth. Because once you see that giraffe calf slide out,you’ll never be able to unsee it.

For reasons beyond the endeavor of remedial human intellect, over the past week, millions of people have become obsessed with the heavily pregnant beast’s progress. A giraffe pregnancy typically lasts 15 months, and April’s in the final stretch, bless the poor girl.

Vets are saying she could pop any moment now, but don’t get your hopes up. They’ve been saying that for days. Some have even speculated that she's not pregnant at all, and this is all an elaborate troll. If that's the case, well played.

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But the real question is why the hell anyone is looking forward to witnessing this whole miracle unfold in the first place. To some it may be seem grotesquely fascinating, but if you’ve got a vagina—and especially if you’ve ever squeezed a baby out of yours—your ability to empathize with April’s pain will probably make you want to pass out.

I have just watched several videos of giraffes giving birth, and spoiler alert: it’s HORRIFYING! Yes, nature is amazing blah blah blah, but nature is also super fucking gross. And this is definitely on the nastier side of the spectrum. You know what? Here's the least alarming part:

If you can't bring yourself to watch, the TL;DR version is that the 150-or-so pound calf looks like it’s getting pooped out and tumbles to the ground head first. Also, it often takes a loooooooong time. And it feels like something the giraffe should be able to experience with a certain degree of solitude.

Sure, privacy is more of a human concept and giraffes don’t really understand the internet (or do they???), but still. If you have to squeeze four hooves and bundle of legs and neck out of you, you should be able to do it in peace—without the eyes of the world starting at your cooch. And yet, here we all are way, way up in April's business.

Props to April for withstanding the pressure of being pretty much the only good thing happening in the world right now. She’s 15 and this is her fourth child. So if anyone can handle the weight of our expectations, it’s her. (Also kudos to her for being a cougar. Her calf daddy is only five years old!)

Still, why are we doing this to her? And more importantly why are we doing this to ourselves? There's plenty of horror in the news. Do you really want to scar yourself in this particularly icky way?

Do the smart thing: Tune in when the birth is over. Then you'll get all of the cute little calf after it's been licked clean of its afterbirth and is stumbling around on its wobbly, adorable legs, sans glop and agony.