Male and female strepsiptera insects look so different that they seem to be entirely different species. The male looks a bit like a fly, but the female is a legless, eyeless, mouthless sack of eggs. She parasitizes another insect, like a wasp, embedding herself in it and poking her oviduct out so a male can fertilize her, shown here. As many as a million young will develop in her, devouring her from the inside out and eventually emerging into the world.

Where to begin with the Surinam toad? Well, this female's back is pockmarked because her eggs were embedded in her skin. Those two young next to her recently erupted out of the skin in unsettling fashion. Plus, the toad is bizarrely flat, likely an adaptation to keep it hidden on the river bottom.

The vampire frog doesn’t drink blood, but it certainly devours its mother’s unfertilized eggs. In the rainforests of Vietnam, she drops her kids in small pools in trees. But there’s no food here, so she returns and drops in some extra eggs. The young are equipped with two hooked fangs that they use to slice through the eggs’ mucus to get at the nutritious yolks. Thus does mom save the day.

We’re supposed to love our mothers because they gave birth to us or whatever and yada yada yada. But not many of them dissolve their insides to regurgitate a goo to feed us, now do they. That’s where this spider has human moms beat. She liquidates herself to feed her young, until she dies and they pierce her abdomen and suck out what remains. Yay motherhood!

The incredible jewel wasp stings a cockroach in two specific spots in the brain, zombifying it. Then the wasp drags the victim into a den and lays an egg and seals the two inside. When it hatches, the larva consumes the still-alive cockroach. So how's your day going?

Another kind of parasitic wasp, the Glyptapanteles variety, attacks caterpillars instead, injecting some 80 eggs into the poor things. The larvae devour the caterpillar, avoiding vital organs to keep their host alive. When they’re ready, they erupt all at once—yet one or two stay behind to mind-control the wounded caterpillar to guard their siblings as they pupate. Once the young hatch and fly away, their host finally perishes.

Life on the open ocean is dangerous, with all manner of predators and nowhere to hide. The argonaut octopus, though, has figured out how to raise her young here in relative safety. She excretes the mineral calcite from two specialized arms to build a beautiful yet delicate shell. It isn’t for her protection, though. She’ll keep her young tucked in there as they develop, constantly cleaning them to keep parasites at bay.