The supporting art is titled “A Mother’s Choice” and was painted by Valerija Pavic (Instagram: @valerija_art_pavic and Facebook: @Val Art).
It is at times like this that I seem to forget everything I know. His face is still young and pure, and his hands are small and powerless. Used only for hugs and funny little drawings of the two of us. For petting our dog and explaining how much he loves me. Picking flowers and assembling toy airplanes.
He still laughs when I tickle him and he cries when I cry. My little one. With his arms wrapped around me, with his face pressed against my chest and his heart beating next to mine, I seem to forget what he really is. Or what he will become.
I still remember all the warnings and the advice I was given that day by smart people in white coats. They dropped their smart words on my heart like a rain of daggers while it was still pumping blood into the fragile little body that had rested beneath it. My little blessing. A gift I had been praying for, for a long, long time. A gift they asked me to send back.
As my eyes began to tear up, I placed my hands over my ears and I prayed. I prayed as hard as I could. I prayed until the voices of the people in white coats stopped murmuring in my ears and my heart stopped bleeding from their evil words. Through that small body growing inside me, I felt God’s love and I knew I could never do anything to harm him
And I thanked the good doctors for their help and advice. I put my clothes back on and I slowly got off the bed. They shouted and frowned and stared at me with judging eyes. Like I was the evil one.
As I was on my way out, I said goodbye as politely as I could and I gently closed the door behind me.
I felt happy and I felt safe. I put my hand on my belly and I felt His love beating against my palm.
Somehow, deep within, I knew I had made the right choice.
Even if I hadn’t…