100 things profile notes mail design host 8 the truth sucks I told my parents the truth. Long story. Long, painful story so I'm going to keep most of it to myself. But, apparently these are my options: 1. Kill the baby and keep my car and financial support. Needless to say my eyes are still sore from crying. Eben and I had a talk as well, and though there was more said than this, the main point of the conversation is that neither of us are ready for this. He might be taking the job in Canada, and he doesn't want to leave me alone while he does the temp work, and apparently thinks that my parents will take me in if I kill it. I'm not trying to make him sound bad, because he was very sweet up to that point. The whole "I love you" and "sometimes I do think of you as my wife" and "I want to spend my life with you" and all that. I asked him if he was willing to take the risk that I could never have children if I had an abortion (2 miscarriages already). He skirted around it, said that that might not happen, and blah blah blah. So basically, he didn't answer it. I told him that I refuse to be my birthmother. I may well have been the only child she was able to have. She had 2 miscarriages before me, 2 after me, and a stillborn that she kept in her body for 1 month after it died. I don't want to be the kind of woman who will leave a dead baby in my body because I am so depressed that I can't have a child. I WILL NOT BE THAT WOMAN. END OF STORY. I guess that's it then. I'd rather be poor with a baby than have money and be miserable. Because, God knows, I will fall apart if I kill this baby. I will be an empty shell of a person. I don't want to go back to that, I don't want to go back to being the bulimic, cutting, sleeping pill taking, drinking little whiny bitch that I was before. I refuse. I am having this baby whether Eben and my parents (and Gabe, although I don't know his point of view on this) like it or not.
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