Today is a cold and miserable morning outside. Last night my husband wanted to be a man. I am 35 and already have two children and he wants another one, he wants a girl. Being pregnant is just about the worst time of my life. I wasn't born to be pregnant. In fact I wasn't born to have a hole between my legs. I hate it.

I grew up in Alaska and I was home schooled by my mother. Unfortunately I inherited my mother's looks. I have always had to put up with men including my father. My mother is French and comes from Grenoble. She is a very typical petite French girl. Cute little French girls are supposed to be their Daddy's favorite. Maybe my mother who grew up in Grenoble it was her thing to do, sit on her Daddy's lap all the time, but I grew up in Alaska in the bush. Bush girls don't sit on Daddy's lap, I love being outside and going camping and hiking and canoeing with my Dad, but not sit on his lap. I love the winter months. I do believe that if you are stuck out in the wilderness you have to learn how to drop a doe on your own and not expect much help. But, if you run fast enough you're supposed to outrun him and he can't catch you. But I didn't run fast enough. I ran and ran but he ran me to ground and here I am stuck in New York with two kids getting them ready for school.

I remember when I was around sixteen and my father would have his father over from down on the river where their fishing camp is and he would look at me and my mother would tell me to watch out because he was going to fuck me. She was pretty explicit about that, she described in pretty miserable detail how he was going to tear me apart, scare me so I would stay inside. I was fast, but he tricked me and ran me down and fucked me and dragged me home like a wounded deer and I was married to him and sent to live with him and his father. We live in New York now because when we went to college he got an MBA and he is now the representative of his family's real estate development business here. When we were still on the river and I was pregnant with Nathan he promised me that he would keep me in Alaska. I remember that clearly. Instead I am here in New York with my two boys and now he wants me to have a girl. I am honest when I tell you that being pregnant is not what I want. I want the girl, I just don't want to be pregnant here. I don't do well at being a girl, not in New York. The whole thing kind of gets on my nerves.

I grew up out there, I always wanted to be with my Dad not my Mom. I just could not see myself working in the house all day to set up for dinner and then go ooze on my Dad like she did. Yuk! And all that thump, thump, thump all night long. Yuk! and her telling me that one day I would understand. I was seven, not seventeen. At that age I did not want to hear about my Dad humping her all night long. Well I still don't understand, I don't understand what I am supposed to get out of this. Kids? That's it? And living in New York? And I am supposed to want to have a new baby here?

What I want is to go home and get up and smell the morning, get breakfast for the boys, pack my husband off to go do his thing in the world, take care of what needs to be taken care of and go out for a walk, sit outside and let my new baby listen to the forest. When she comes I am going to name her Gabriela, like my mother. I am going to sit on the porch and watch her play. I need to tell her father and the boys that she is coming to live with us and we are moving back home.

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