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Anna Blix (b. 1985) is a biologist, author and political advisor in the Norwegian Parliament. She has long experience as a writer and communicator, and writes a regular column about science for the newspaper Morgenbladet.

Excerpt from 40 weeks:

Week 8

The Giant Pacific octopus (Enteroctopus dofleini) lies motionless in her cave. She’s stuck her eggs to the roof, they hang down in big clusters, there are a hundred thousand of them. She measures four metres from the end of one tentacle to the other, she is long as a station wagon, and weighed up to 50 kilos when she crept into the cave eight weeks ago. Since then, she has not eaten, not gone outside, not done anything except watch over the eggs. The only movement she makes is to blow water over the eggs with her big siphon, the tube she usually rapidly squeezes water through to shoot her body through the ocean. She makes sure the eggs get enough oxygen, that parasites and algae don’t stick to them. With her sensitive suction cups she strokes the eggs, feeling them carefully, taking care that also those in the centre of the cluster get fresh water. Slowly she starves as she sacrifices everything for the eggs, for the babies, she will lay there until they hatch in about 4-5 months, the amount of time it will take depends on how warm the water is. Does she get hungry, does her digestive system protest when she doesn’t give her body nutrition?

I’m lying in my own cave, my dark bedroom. I am an octopus whose only purpose is to take care of my offspring, the embryo inside me. I vomit to make sure no parasites get near my egg, I stroke my hands carefully over my belly, I will lay here for a long time still. I should feel happy there’s a new human growing in my belly, thankful that it’s going well so far, but I can’t. To feel nauseated is not like feeling a little pain in the foot, something I can distance myself from, dull with painkillers and still function. The nausea ruins everything I try to do, and no matter what I do it won’t disappear. I cannot think when I feel nauseated, I cannot take care of my three-year-old while I’m vomiting, I cannot have conversations with my partner while I wait for my stomach to turn inside out again. I can only lie completely still and hope it passes.