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Esther's Diary - Week 8

Esther's Diary - Week 8



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I already know what it was like to be in prison! Even though I'm a whore, I'm a baby-slave.

I've been feeling bad for a week now and my condition is not improving, it's getting worse. Megхrьlцk. Or I'll just. Asking for time. I've been sick so many times in twenty-nine years that I can count with one hand. Now what? I wouldn't be without my intensive hell.
I have always loved to live, my favorite pastime, to fully embrace everything and everyone. This kind of hedonic habitus does not include time-wasting illness or weakness, only the bounced force and energy! And because I'm a conscientious girl, now I'm pushing, pushing everything. All missed school breaks, fifteen years of New Year's Eve and celebration, swirling heartburn, tummy tuck in the gutter, days of inconvenience, and timeless discomfort. And the fish shows. I don't know how I missed them, Marichuy or the Astro Show. And last but not least, I have never dreamed of my never dreamed dreams! Double dynamite.
Because now I have time for everything. What you do not need to sit or go for is, I make emergency trips with me in the awake and unconscious pants. In fact, if you can see it, be stone, even though I have brought the old age by fifty years. What do I expect until I can get over it now? Everyday life was gray and homogeneous, no matter whether it was a penny or a monday, it just passed.
My empire is the home, the home of the little ones, my company and all day flashing television (which I can only listen to my skin), food, the water, the cool faience. The latter, let's face it, didn't exist for T. Mikhail. Giza, and my brother is the highlight of the day, the evening. When you come home, it's like visiting the airy life. I believe that once this ends.
Of course, joking around, you can say, and sure enough, I'm a bad patient. And I'm sick. Yes, but there is nothing to be surprised about, if one day we change to all those around us, both physically and mentally, we need to understand the time. And anyway, I know it's not going to live in the middle of the crowd either.
That evening on a lush Monday evening I passed the test on the edge of the mosque, I was sure that only my husband was enthusiastic about this whole "really pregnant or" misogyny. I did not believe it even when I held the test with the two stained strips, and I was relieved of the accidental cracking. How Can I Be Pregnant When I Feel She Will Come? But after all, it's going to be a lot of time for me to get pregnant, but it's not like it is stinking! And how do I go snowboarding so much? And train? So suddenly? Will we have children? We'll have a kid!
I know one thing: I don't read forums anymore! I have a strong guess that it is not just the malevolent, intelligent women who are able to validate their lives ... days. However, I note that you can help me out of the fold, in this unwilling, strong, twisted sensation that stretches around the token. And the baby's in, I can't believe it! You're in, I know: I'm sorry to feel sick, because that's a good sign. The baby conceived and wanted me, us, life. You are interested in this world, and so be it. Soon I would kiss her like any other mom. It would only be nice if my stomach and my happiness grew instead of the sick. His help, help me grasp, get used to it, so week after week everything has changed, that now everything will be: yin, you, х. Te, you, Jin.