Six, now 14

I am still baffled by the media circus that surrounds the baby factory named Nadya Suleman. This also applies to Jon, Kate, and the crazies in Arkansas with the last name Duggars. Regardless of what kind of power or being you answer to, your output to society does not equal your input. Not one deserves the attention spectacle that has followed the aforementioned families, and they certainly do not deserve the handouts, promotions, and huge paychecks that followed their exploitation of their children.

Dave and I constantly discuss our future plans for children. Dave wants only one, but I want two. It will be a contentious issue until Baby #1 is born into this world, and then we’ll see who really wins the bid. But my point is this: our argument on the number of children to bear is born out of the fear of how to provide for those children. Dave fears we will not be able to provide enough attention or resources to more than one child, and I disagree. For two 26 year-old adults, we live a rather nice life. Nicer than any other person my age (that I can recall).

This is not to brag, but to prove a point. If one of the struggles we tackle everyday is the future speculation of our resources and provisions to ensure a good life to at most two children, I cannot imagine how a woman with 14 children intends to provide for them without government assistance, as she claims she will not need to accept. In one year I alone make more than the average American household, and Dave makes at least twice what I do, and we worry about whether or not we can afford these children with our own money. This woman has got to be fucking kidding me if she thinks I have one ounce of sympathy for her.

And you know what? I do not. I also believe that children services should be knocking on her mother’s door and removing the children from her household. I also believe that the doctor responsible for this blasphemy should be required to front the funds for their birth and subsequent raising. By his hands and her craziness, there are fourteen children who cannot be cared for by one person.

I hope she finds this blog, or any like it, and experiences a moment of reflection. I hope she reaches deep inside herself to find out why she lied to her mother about her disability checks, the plastic surgery, the well-manicured nails, and the insatiable appetite for bringing children into this world, children for whom she will not be able to solely provide. I hope she understands the widespread pain and anger many people will experience due to her poor, unethical choices. I hope the doctor that performed these IVFs is shamed out of his profession. I hope the media is ashamed of the foam at their mouths as they outstretched millions for interviews, photos, and ghost-written novels about the trials and tribulations of a clown car vagina, whose owner I am no longer sure knows how to drive the car.

And I am ashamed that every one of us, even me, is giving this situation another punce of spotlight. It is time to dethrone the baby-crazed families, God speaking to them or not, and regain some sense of morality and ethics when it comes to the responsibility of another human’s life. It is not right or fair to showcase the innocent life of a child born to a greedy parent, and it is certainly shameful to shower the greedy with exactly what they want: money, money, money.

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