As if we needed any more evidence of how sick and demented feminists are, here’s a story that should enrage anyone who has any sense in their head. In a blog posted at a website entited “Injustice Stories,” a perverse woman identifying herself as “Lana” wrote about the horror of finding out she was pregnant with a boy, and what she did about it.
In the spring of 2012, I found out that I was pregnant. I had a good idea who the donator was, but money wasn’t really an issue, and I knew that I would be a good mother-like figure for the child by myself. I have always believed in the right for all women to have a choice in terminating their pregnancy, but when I confirmed the diagnosis about a month into into it, I decided that I WAS ready to have this child.
She then relates how some guy on a plane got her upset, and it changed her mind about any man “helping the cause.”
As spring turned into summer and my belly started to grow, my mind ran wild with the thoughts of teaching my daughter from a young age tolerance and feminist ideals. Choosing the right all-girls daycare, then elementary school, all so that she could grow up and thrive in an environment where women are told that they can do anything that they want to do. No man will be around to hurt her progress, no boys there to demean her or call her names.
I had already started buying gender neutral clothing since I did not want outside influences affecting what gender she would ultimately become. My research on nannies one day came to an abrupt end when my cell phone alarm went off – time for my 5 month appointment. These early appointments had gone well enough, my baby was progressing in a healthy manner.
Today, my doctor, who I will call “Sandy” did an ultrasound and everything appeared to be fine. “Would you like to know the gender?” Sandy asked. I thought to myself “That machine is an ultrasound, not a crystal ball, you couldn’t tell me the gender of my baby even if you wanted to”
“Sure” was my response.
“It’s a boy”…..
……
“What?” I managed to sputter. Sandy then showed me on the ultrasound how exactly my body had betrayed me even worse than the misogynistic suit jockey on the airplane so many months before. I was in shock, I started crying, weeping at the thought of what I was about to curse the world with.
She decided to kill what she called her body’s “betrayal.”
By the third day, I started regaining some of my mental strength and knew what I had to do. I couldn’t bring another monster into the world. We already have enough enemies as it is. It didn’t matter that I would be raising a son, he would still come into contact with boys, men, perhaps even the suit jockey who would inevitably twist his carefully constructed upbringing with their kindness. He would think “These men aren’t so bad, why would mom say that they are holding me down?”
And the disgusting wretch would do it again:
I stand by my decision to abort my baby because it was a male.
I don’t hate men, I hate the patriarchy, what men, and even some women, turn into, I wasn’t going to let that happen with my offspring. The chances were greater that it would with a male, it was unacceptable.
If the curse returns, I would do the exact same thing all over again.
This is what extreme feminism turns into – rabid and foaming-at-the-mouth degenerates who kill their children over their gender. This story is only getting attention on right-wing blogs, but imagine how it would go if it were a conservative who killed their baby because it was a female?
For more rabid feminist insanity, click here.