When I menstruate it’s a war zone between my thighs, Baghdad in my vagina, with clots the size of a king’s ransom. My ovaries feel like marine boot camp, soldiers marching and punching my womb with all of their might to a Marine Corps Cadence, “We love the double time. We do it all […]
My abortion, Pippa, and I are really close. Really, we are. She’s not homesick in the slightest. For an ethereal aberration who communicates via text message and telepathy, I must admit, she surprised me with her fast-talking, deadpan, assertive personality and wild history. Neither of us expected to share my womb for nine months. I […]