I think I'm going to wear a low-cut shirt tonight.
I rarely do that. But I've only got these puppies until Tuesday (or thereabouts-- how long does it take boobs to deflate after abortions?) and I may as well flaunt 'em.
I'm just waiting now. I honestly thought that I could get this taken care of as soon as I found out about it-- and the side effects from the medical just sound too gruesome and time-consuming-- but here I am, still fertilized. It really goes to show how information changes everything. Back when I found out, there was barely a speck inside me, but I felt closer to it then than I do now. When it didn't exist at all, hardly, I thought of it as a potential person. But now I think of it as something unwanted and soulless. That sounded cruel, and I don't know if I believe myself.