Lucia; a young and beautiful woman with her whole life ahead of her was shot dead protecting the biggest secret of her life.
Her three year old daughter, Kiara.
The circumstances of her death remain an unsolved case whilst Kiara is left without a...
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Hell mother-fucking yes, it's a girl.
I mean, I shouldn't celebrate too hard just yet because I've heard horror stories from mothers who ended up finding out the scan had been completely wrong...after buying a wardrobe full of pink tutus.
But I have faith in my girl, she'll pull through for me.
To be completely honest with you, I really, truly would've been happy either way.
There's just way cooler names for girls. You can't disagree with me.
Just think about it, half the population of boys are called Jack and the other half Josh, and I aint raising no J-name fuckboy.
I'd rather sacrafice him or send him to you. Although that would guarantee a future fuck boy so lmaybe not.
Remember Abigail my midwife? It turns out she's a real babe, bless her pure heart.
An angel sent to save my ass from being dragged down to hell.
...nah, I'm still definitely going to hell.
Just yesterday in the local supermarket I purposely hit an old lady with my trolley because she was taking her sweet time deciding which soup to get.
I mean come on, her tastebuds probably fizzled away years ago, who cares which flavour she gets?
Anyways, Abi being the sweetest- and only- person in my life, hand delivered me a stunning arrangement of pink flowers and balloons after her shift at the hospital.
The poor girl holds all this pointless guilt and empathy for me since I told her I'm completely alone in this.
While I just feel bad I broke her nose for getting my name wrong.
I realised mid swing that she was just using the alias that I gave her but at that point it was too late.
The stupid girl forgave me instantly and proposed she should arrange a small gender reveal for me.
That girl would be dead meat if she were in my shoes.
But hey, atleast she can have a chat to her co-workers when they pop her nose back into place.
And that's the story of how I found out we were having a little princess.
I'd write more but I have more interest in buying matching mother-daughter outfits to force her into while she's too young have a say.
I'm such a good mama.
Ew, I'm too young to be called that.
Gonna go cash in my pension that I don't have, play some bingo and go to bed at eight thirty.
