A Baby Whispers Her Thoughts

I found this "letter" buried deep in my files. With political views being cast both ways, I ask that an open mind read this from a different perspective. That being .... from the unborn child.

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   Oct. 5: Today my life began. My parents do not know it yet. I am as small as the pollen of a flower, but it is I already. I will be a girl. I will have blonde hair and blue eyes. Nearly everything is settled already, even that I shall love flowers.

Oct 19: I have grown a little, but I am still too small to do anything for myself. My mother does almost everything for me, though she still does not know that she is carrying me under her heart.
   But, is it true that I am not yet a real person? That only my mother exists? I am a real person, just as a small crumb of bread is still bread. My mother is, and I am.

Oct. 23: My mouth is beginning to open. Just think, in a year or so I’ll be laughing; later I’ll start to talk. My first word will be “Mama”.

Nov. 2: Today my heart began to beat. It will beat softly for the rest of my life. After many years it will tire and stop and I shall die.
   My arms and legs are taking shape, but I must wait a long time before these tiny legs will raise up to my mother’s arms; and before these tiny arms can conquer the earth and befriend people.

Nov. 12: Tiny fingers are forming. How small they are. One day I’ll stroke my mother’s hair with them.

Nov. 20: Only today the doctor told my mother that I am living here under her heart. How happy she must be. Are you happy, Mother?

Nov. 25: My mother and father are probably thinking about a name for me. They don’t know I’m a girl, so they are probably calling me “Andy”.  But I want to the called Shannen. I am growing so big.

Dec. 10: My hair is growing. It is as bright and shining as the sun. I wonder what kind of hair my mother has?

Dec. 13: I can almost see, though it is night around me. When mother brings me into the world, it will be full of sunshine and flowers.
   More than anything, I want to see my mother. How do you look, Mother?

Dec. 24: I wonder if Mother heard the delicate beat of my heart?
   Some children are born with sickly hearts, but mine is healthy. It beats so evenly ... tup-tup, tup-tup, you shall have a healthy little daughter, Mother.

Dec. 28: Today my mother killed me.