My child is two months old. As memories of my painful, complicated labor begin to fade, I stare down at my beautiful child, who at times — as much as I hate to admit it — looks like you.

Of course, you’d have no idea. You’ve never laid eyes upon my child, and while I know it’s for the best, a part of me hurts for her. One day, I’ll sit with her as she wonders why she wasn’t good enough for you, and she’ll discover that you have a family, with a woman -whoever she may be- and other children that you cherish.I chose this. I rid you of all responsibilities, but there are things I’ll always wonder. For example, your baby pictures and those of your sisters... Do they bare any resemblance to my child? I’ll always search for similarities between the two of you.And while I’m allowed to hate you, I’ll never actually be able to. Despite your ignorance, absence, and lack of caring for anyone but yourself, you have given me life. Because of you, I wake every morning knowing that I am needed and that I am loved. You gave me the reason I breathe, and in a way, I’m lucky because I don’t have to share my child.

A child’s love is like no other; it’s truly unconditional, and because of your absence, I get all of it. I’m her superhero, her pretend doctor, her nighttime story teller, and her best friend. I’m her mother and her father... And for that, I thank you.

I thank you, not only for giving me the one person that I love most in this world, but for letting your absence unknowingly make me the one person that she loves most in this world.