Christian Miscarried Kids ... Part I

Welcome to the first ever edition of Christian miscarried kids! Have you ever wondered what happens when a zealot won’t abort and a fetus wants a better life? With a little bit of gumption and a whole lotta courage, that fetus takes charge of their destiny and by golly why shouldn’t they? After all, isn’t that what life is all about!



I’ve traveled all over the great US of A in search of miscarried kids, in every nook and cranny of our beloved country. Happy Camp, California, Cummaquid, Massachusetts, Fertile, Minnesota, Lesbia, New Mexico, and countless other stops along the way brimming with folks who have good old fashioned American values.



Before I took this road trip, I assumed breaking bread with a miscarried kid would be easy. I quickly learned, like every other kid, these miscarried kids want to move forward, not backwards. Recalling the memories of being inside an oppressive womb with little promise of a future wasn’t an easy thing to discuss. But, ask them about the choice they made and their future, and wow, do they light up like the 4th of July.



In this first installment, we caught up with a most beguiling miscarried kid from Burning Bush, Georgia, at Krispy Kreme Doughnuts. After a few cups of coffee and a plate of glazed doughnut holes, we were fast friends. Here’s an excerpt of our conversation.



Katie: Thanks so much for meeting me today, miscarried kid.
Miscarried Kid: Oh, it’s cool.
Katie: How’s life treating you?
Miscarried Kid: Pretty good now.
(Pause)
Miscarried Kid: You want to know why, right? I mean, that is why you’re here, isn’t it?
Katie: I wasn’t going to lie to Miscarried Kid and insult MK’s intelligence, so I said, It is.
Miscarried Kid: My previous almost z-ma dragged me to church for show and tell every Sunday and spent numerous hours detailing what she had in store for me. Had she not done that, I probably wouldn’t be a miscarried kid today. I guess in a way she did me a favor.



I kept hearing about this army I had already been inducted into and this arrow I was destined to become and quite honestly, it was all way too much. I felt like I was living in a pressure cooker. I got so depressed, I was popping 10 mg's of Xanex every few hours. I was trying to communicate my frustration with my previous z-ma by giving her chronic heartburn, but she just didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t care about me, my needs, my hopes, my dreams, none of it. All she cared about was this grand plan she had for me.



I knew I had to take matters into my own hands, so I did. One afternoon during a post church luncheon, I put on my i-pod, and jammed to, Gonna Fly Now, the theme song to Rocky and tear assed outta that fuckin’ womb. I was unstoppable, dude, a refugee on the run! And, Katie, I never looked back.
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It’s inspired, isn’t it? It brought a tear to my eye and joy to my heart. Munching on that doughnut with an ear to ear grin, Miscarried Kid was radiant, free from the burden of a hopeless future.



The next time you run into a Christian miscarried kid, introduce yourself, and take a minute to say, hi. How are you? Are you having a good day? You won’t regret it!



Update: Miscarried Kid moved into the womb of a Jewish Puerto Rican Lesbian. She and her wife, an Italian Catholic, live in Anchorage, Alaska, and MK is over the moon.