As you sit there preening yourself while smiling and thinking of all the wonderful things you’re going to do with the rest of your life starting next Sunday, i think of that precious little girl (who never asked to be conceived) lying in the woods all alone with duct tape on her mouth.
Regardless of how she got that way, you are guilty of being unappreciative and taking for granted the miracle that is creating life.
You write letters to your friend of your desires to get pregnant again, go shopping at Target, get acrylic nails and have your hair done. Now i write this letter to my friends and to the universe and the fates begging to please, please, please gift you with the disease that is infertility.
There is no punishment that is more suiting for you than to struggle for the rest of your life to become pregnant again, only to fail, after what you have squandered away. There is nothing that will make you grieve so deeply the loss of your daughter than to know she died because of your actions and she was the only shot you had at being a mother.
I imagine you in the woes of infertility, peeing on sticks to see nothing but big fat negative tests cycle after cycle (I hope) while thinking of your daughter’s last minutes, quite possibly her very last breaths and finally regretting what you did.
That to me seems like justice.