For the most part, I’m a “do what you want to do with your body” kind of person, but in some cases, your body isn’t just your body anymore.
This morning, I drove past a school bus stop and saw a very, very pregnant woman standing there. Like, “could drop one at any second” pregnant, with a passel of kids around her. And she was smoking a cigarette. Suckin’ on that thing like a little kid with a Slurpee.
It boggles my mind. It boggles my mind enough that anyone in this day and age would even smoke a cigarette knowing the harm it’s doing to your own body. I remember all the anti-smoking propaganda we had in school when I was a kid… coloring books where we colored the lungs in brown and stuff… and I was a little miss goody-good, so I never started. Even if I wasn’t a goody-good, watching my Dad get triple bypass surgery when I was about 15 years old would have been enough to scare me straight.
I did enjoy a few cigars… and smoking a few other things that weren’t cigarettes, when I was young and foolish. But cigarettes? No. I tried one, once, when I was really drunk (and young and foolish), just to see if I could get any sense of what the hype was about. It tasted gross. It burned my throat. And made me cough. Not a fun experience. And from what I’ve heard, that’s everyone’s typical first time experience. It’s an “acquired taste.” So why would anyone want to acquire it?!
But, hey… it’s your life, and if you think breathing fire makes you cool or something, go right ahead… but when you’re having a baby?! WTF? Really? You don’t even love your kid enough to stop for a few months?!
I know so many women who would give up anything to have a baby, and here’s someone willingly risking her own and her unborn child’s health, and she’s breeding like a frickin’ rabbit. It makes me sick.