I’m a great mom to my dogs, my husband, and my employees. My hackles stand straight up if anyone dares to wrong any of them, and I’d take a fist fight to the floor if I had to protect them. I’m a great mom.
Yet, I don’t have children. Whitey would be an amazing dad if we did have kids; he’s into baseball and golfing, and has a calm temperament. He’s always wanted to be a dad.
We’ve tried for over five years now to get pregnant. After three miscarriages, I think we’re ready to give it up.
This recent miscarriage has really angered me.
Why can these shitty parents keep giving birth to neglected kids?
I’m bitter right now, and probably a bit more than hormonal. But I’m angry.
The next time I see a parent smoking in a car with an infant I’m going to punch him in the face. The next time I see a mom cussing out her kid I’m going to pull her hair out with my teeth. The next time I deliver a pizza to a crackhouse where the kid answers the door filthy and scared I’m going to kidnap him and show him a better life.
Man. I need a hug.