I couldn’t have this baby safely, and he didn’t want anything to do with it. So I ended my pregnancy; at that point the fertilized embryo was transferred from me to the ectogenetic womb (it’s the law, now that all fetuses are viable from conception onward, given the new external artificial womb capabilities).
Today it sits in a warehouse among thousands of other unwanted fetuses, in thousands of wombs. As soon as I say I’m ready, they’ll pierce the amniotic sac and the child will be born.
But I’ll never be ready.
Nonetheless, it’s waiting. Forever. Like a permanent ghost.