To my unborn baby,
First off, I wanted to say that I am sorry. I am sorry I brought you into this world, barely more than a few layers of tissues, barely bigger than an apple seed, and then took you out of it. In such a horrible way without even giving you a chance.
I wish you knew that if it were possible, and if it were how it was supposed to be, I would keep you.
Not only do I wish you knew that, but I wish you had the capability to know that. When I take you from this world you will just be beginning to form the tissues to produce the organs that will let you think and breathe and be. The organs that will give you the capability to be the amazing person that I am sure you would be.
Unfortunately, however, I can’t bring you into this world. I am still a broken person, and while I am building myself back up, I don’t have enough to give to someone else.
I can’t be that glimmer of hope, that role-model, that person that someone depends on with everything they have. Not yet anyways.
You were created on a drunken Thursday night my senior year of college. The man that helped me make you is a lost person too. He had been in my life for about 5 months. We were off and on and I had ended it with him, but this night we connected again. He is still in my life, and he is helping me through this.
And I think once you are gone, in a week and 3 days, he will drift out of my life. I don’t know if it’s for the best. There isn’t much I know for sure anymore.
All I know is that I have this feeling, underneath all of the negativity and the pain that he has caused me, that I can’t give up yet. But after this, I don’t know. We are not together, and we are hardly a functional set of people, but I think you were made out of love.
Do you want to know what’s scary? I think I love him, and I think he loves me. He tells me when he’s had a couple drinks. And I know it’s stupid, but I believe him. We always wind up together. Did you know that there was a 5% chance of you happening? What are the odds?
But you happened. And that makes me think that you were supposed to happen, and that you are supposed to be here. In 8 months you should be in this world. But I don’t think right now is that time.
It breaks my heart to leave you. You are my small glimmer of hope. My world is very dark right now, and I think you could be that light. You could make everything okay. You could be a fresh start, maybe you could save me.
I hope that you can forgive me, that you can understand that I am doing what is best for not only for myself, but for you. I promise I am doing this for you.
Wherever you go once everything is said and done, I want you to know that no matter how little of an entity you were, you were loved. I can promise you that.