Stephanie Rodriguez-Moser

But how dare you, terrible mother and/or father. Don’t you love your kids? Don’t you want them to prosper? Don’t you miss them with every ounce of your being when they are in class? Aren’t you weeping huge tears of sorrow over the loss of this valuable family time?

I don’t mean the super rich 1% (if I did, this article would be a much happier one, listing all of the ways I was using my newfound wealth to ensure a Trump presidency never exists). Instead, I am part of the 1% of women whose pregnancies were ectopic or molar.

OK, I recognize that TV is actually having this moment with all the amazing original shows on streaming, and Making A Murderer has opened half the country’s eyes to the ridiculous horror of the American justice system and all. But every time someone posts about it, I just think, “Ugh, you would already know this had you obsessively listened to Adnan’s case on Serial.”

On the day before Valentine’s Day, I had egg retrieval. Nothing says romance like sticking a literal needle through the walls of your vagina, amirite?