Defeated by a bug

Something the creature did to you damaged your mind. For the next months and presumably the rest of your life, your life is as a simple incubator. Seemingly once a month, you find yourself giving birth to monster after monster, the slime pouring from you like a waterfall. Every time this happens you look at your flat stomach in sadness. Fortunately for you, the creatures never let you stay small for long. Within a day of giving birth you are always pumped full of another round of monsters, body swelling like the broodmother you have become. Your life has become a blur and time no longer has any meaning. It doesn't matter for you though. Your life is now a cycle of pleasure and sleep, and nothing could make you happier.