Well Harlow, I’ve been thinking of you more and more. Parts of me are so conflicted with the ultimate decision to experience pregnancy at it’s full length, or not at all.
There is a problem with the desire of wanting to give birth to a child with the guilt that I (have since felt and will continue to feel) since August 4th, 2012.
Things change once you go through such an emotionally deteriorating process, especially if it’s life changing. It’s been over a year, and while I am mentally stable, and I am in a much healthier relationship…the financing is always the largest issue for mothers young and not of the “desired” age. While I know I am fit for raising a child, my bank account does not reflect the same. The more and more I delve into my mind about that horrifying day, the more and more I want to make up for it. The underlying issue is the fact that I feel I will be cheating you; I will be cheating the chance you had at a life. The first child that I bare, I feel, will be almost a recreation of you.
The relationship I am in now, is wonderful. I am more worried about myself running away than I am Zach. I’m in a better place, with a stronger mindset when it comes to upholding a relationship. I am with someone who so unconditionally loves me, and will go to the ends of the Earth for me. I was not fortunate enough to experience such a love and comfort, with the previous “Father” of my child that I had to terminate.
All in all, after what I have experienced…if pregnancy were to strike me again, there would be no second thought on what I would choose to do. I am so enamored with the thought of having a child at 20 years old (I will be 20 in 3 months) ONLY because of the heart breaking, gut wrenching experience I had to go through. I am not living a life of poverty, but I am not living luxuriously either. I am middle-class, and so are my parents. I know that with the drive and ambition and LOVE I have, something would be worked out. I can truly say that, while mothers at the age of 16-18 cannot. The trauma that I experienced was enough to last a lifetime, and I want nothing more than to turn that trauma into something beautiful. While that may seem like I am trying to cover up what happened by birthing a child, that is not the intention or the desire.
My heart aches every day for the loss of my daughter Harlow. While I was only almost 7 weeks and was not positive at all about the sex, I felt in my heart a few days before the procedure that what I was growing inside of me, was a little girl.
I have apologized profusely in my head, hoping she hears me. I hope that whatever happens now or later, the child I give birth to does not take her place. He or she will not wipe out the memory I have of the little bit of time I was able to spend with my growing “iima bean.” My Harlow will never be shamed, or forgotten for she has shaped me into a stronger woman.
In peace may you rest, my beautiful angel.
I love you forever and ever until I’m below the ground and one with the Earth.