Hello my child,

It’s me, your mother.

Where do I even begin?

Let me introduce myself. I am a 19-year-old nursing student, I love chocolate, and was terrified of babies and kids. Yes, kids terrified me. I thought of them as expensive brats and a huge responsibility. I told myself that I would never have kids. I didn’t want kids. I love food, but I can’t cook; I can’t even change my tires. I have little patience and can be quite ditsy. My dream was to travel the world and retire when I turn 50.

Now let me tell you about your father. He is 25, handsome, athletic, cooks, cleans, and smells amazing! He is a bad boy. He has a past, but he is changing. I was with him, trying to help him change and become the guy he wanted to be. He loves kids and animals. He pretends to be tough on the outside but on the inside, he is mushy gushy. In his past, he’s been with plenty of women. In fact, some even got pregnant and got an abortion, and possibly he might have a kid out there that he is unaware of. Just know that he would have been a great father and that you have half brothers or sisters.

We are no longer together, but your father and I are still “friends.” As friendly as two ex-lovers can be anyways. We both know who you are and do love you. If you are here with us, we would have given everything to see you happy.

I want to tell you more about your family. On your father’s side, you have two uncles (one married), no cousins (yet), a grandma, a grandpa, and a great grandma. On my side, you have a grandma and a grandpa.

I really owe you an apology. I did not know I was pregnant, or else I would not have abused Benadryl or drank so much. I blame myself because as a nursing student, how could I have missed the signs? I didn’t know until it was too late. When I held your corpse in my hands, I was so shocked. I am so sorry.

I really wanted to get to know you. Are you a boy or a girl? What your dreams would have been; what you do with your life; what you would have looked like. All I know is that you like chili and Mexican food based off the cravings I had when I was pregnant with you. Your birthday is August 11, 2016, if you were to be born on the exact predicted date; I really wish I was given the chance to find out myself.

I never got the chance to bond with you, but I know that you were with me— even if it was for a short time. What happened happened, and I can only blame myself; I am a terrible mother. Sorry I couldn’t bring you into this world. I hope you are happy in heaven.

You are my little angel.

It hurts me to know that I had to say good-bye before even saying hello. I wanted to hold you.

You changed my life. Though I did not want kids, being pregnant with you changed me; there is that special feeling I get whenever I see a baby now. I guess I changed because i'm a mother now. Now I love babies and kids. I want to become a midwife and deliver babies. Your existence helped re-inspire me to continue my journey and be a nurse. Your existence helped your father get back on his feet and change.

Your father and I were not meant to be, and I guess we –you, me, and him— were also not meant to be. I pray for you, my darling. I hope you are happy and can forgive me, forgive us. We are still here on earth and need to keep going. I hope you go and look after your father. He really needs your protection. Make sure he doesn’t return to his old self again. I will be fine, I will keep pushing forward. One day, we will all be reunited in heaven, and there, I will be able to see you.

I wish I could kiss your little fingers and your forehead and say good night, but until the day I see you again, please rest in peace.

Love,

Your terrible mother