I thought I had my life mapped out. I was twenty when a doctor sat across from me and told me I carried a genetic condition—one that could be passed on to a child and make that child’s life harder than it should ever have to be. I remember nodding like I understood. I didn’t. All I could think about was a future son or daughter suffering because of me. So I made a decision too quickly, too emotionally, and too permanently. I had a procedure done so I would never have children. At the time, I told myself it...
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