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Location: British Columbia, Canada

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Friday, March 31, 2006

What My Abortion Gave Me

I don't understand the assumption that life stops at abortion. The idea that, should you not have had that abortion, everything would continue, but with a loving, adoring child at your side. Sure, they'd say, you'd have a bit less cash on hand, and times might be tough for a while, but it's worth it! You'd be saving another human life!
If you say so, ya boogerheads, but what would I be losing?

Well, how about we start with my daughter.

If it wasn't for having an abortion, The Kid would not exist. How's that work? Simple. You and me, we don't believe in fate. You because you're a good Godbag, me, because I don't follow that shit. I control my "destiny", and that's just the way it's gonna be.
And that means you can't erase the part of my life that happened post-abortion. You can't take that shit away from me, just to make me feel guilty.

I don't.

Remorse? My ass.
Do you honestly expect me to want to turn back time, relive the drunken haze of my early twenties, shoot my ass back to the ten foot by four foot room I shared, bring back G. and my retaliation against M, who would later prove himself time and time again to be one of the best friends I would ever have? Do you honestly think I would relive that, and instead of learning from it, moving on, slowly growing into the person I am today, instead of that, bow down to your religion, and carry that poor, pickled fetus to term?

No matter how hard you try, you can't take away my life. You can't make it stop at my abortion. It didn't. It won't.

So what happened after? Not much. I puked in the parking lot of Toys R Us, then went back to the B&B. We saw a snowboarding show. I moved home, out of fear, for a while. Dated a guy who had a Great Dane, and I fucking miss that dog. I loved that dog.
Went back to the Rockies, drank a little bit less, but not much. Worked, got bored, quit, worked got bored, quit.
And here's where it gets exciting:
Ran out of money. Wandered down the street with a resume, where I ran in to D., who just happened to be on a coffee break. And D.'s shop just happened to need someone. And D.'s manager was there, and had a shitty customer right before I came in, so just happened to need a staff member who cussed like a sailor, and didn't take shit from anyone. And hired me, to work the Back Store, where (?) just happened to work. And (?) just happened to have a friend who stopped in about once a week, and was single, and thought I was pretty damn cute. And I just happened to be bored then.

Thing is, there's no destiny there. I met The Ex through pure chance. And chance led to my daughter. I'm not gonna go and fuck with that, wondering about "What if's" and "Could be's". And the ant-abortion crew is riding on the idea that I'm too fucking stupid to figure this shit out.

Don't be. I'm not. I owe my life to my abortion. Maybe that's symbolic, maybe I'd have another life if I hadn't had an abortion (Never mind the fact that Shadow just told me that a girl from the group back home died in childbirth a couple of weeks ago). But whatever life I would have had, it wouldn't have included my daughter. And if anyone out there has the audacity to say, "But you would have had another child," well, seriously;

How would you feel about me taking away your children, and replacing them with an unknown, pickled fetus? Or even an unpickled fetus? Maybe a known child? You know that kid that you think is great, the one that you have play dates with every Sunday? Would you trade your child for that kid?

No. You wouldn't. And neither would I.

Guess what, you egg-loving freaks: I love my daughter. And ain't nothing you can say will make that go away. And I sure as hell ain't gonna let you make me feel guilty about the life that led me to her. Fuck that, "God blessed you with..." shit. Fuck that "Sanctity of (pre-born) life" shit.
I'd kill a hundred and fifty fetuses if I needed to to protect my daughter. And so would you. You know it, accept it. Move on.


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