I forgot to update my journal and tell everyone I'm not pregnant (thank fucking gods). Whatever's going on with me is either cancer or stress...hopefully the latter. If that stick I peed on turned up positive, I have no compunctions about informing you that I would have immediately booked in for an abortion. I've drank, I've smoked and the
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I'm a freaking walking contradiction when it comes to reproduction. I want to have kids, but the thought of childbirth makes my stomach turn. Of course, I could be one of these people that nature might sympathize with and deem me infertile so I won't have to go through childbirth. After all, one doesn't have to have their own kids to be a parent.
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Also, I think you've explained my take on pro-choice better than I ever could. The idea of something growing inside of me, getting ready to come out, while everyone around me expects me to give up all of the things I enjoy doing so I can be a living incubator? It's like something out of a sci-fi movie. That and I'm just not prepared to fuck up a kid of my own trying to raise him/her.
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