And since tonight is Bitchfest 2002, I would like to take this moment to extend my middle finger to my maternal instincts. For 22 fucking years I have never wanted children. I've adored children as long as they belonged to someone else, but never ever actually felt any sort of desire to bear children of my own. And now, six months after I found out that my ovaries are dysfunctional, and 11 months after my health nightmare first began, I find myself thinking about what my kids would be like, imagining their personalities, and all that sort of thing. Why now? It seems so cruel, you know? For me to want it just as I find out that I probably can't have it. Oh sure, modern medicine works miracles right? But what if I put in all that time and subject myself to all the fucking rigors of it only to find that it's not going to do any good anyway? Sometimes I feel like my life is a joke.

And I am most definitely the punchline.