September 6, 2001.
My only daughter was born that day, the same day my life ended twice. Had it been up to the left, I could have chosen myself over her and chosen to abort my absolutely amazing 2-pound daughter in her 26th week of gestation because I wanted to live, long after what the left considers ‘viable’.
You remember how the Limbo Dance goes, don’t you? It’s when a limbo dancer bends backwards to shimmy under a pole that’s set low to the ground….
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