I'm Sorry

Dear Alessandra,

                Finally, I mustered up some courage to write this letter to you. I'm really very sorry for what I did. I can never forget you. You were my firstborn, you were my little one. But I had no choice other than going for an abortion. I know that you might be angry. But after reading this letter, I hope you will understand what our circumstance was at that time.

                When you were first conceived, Alex and I were really happy. Finally, after 2 years, we could become parents. We were overjoyed. After all, we were your proud parents. I think you remember the day we kept a party for you. Everyone was happy. They got you tiny shoes, toys, clothes and what not. You were my bundle of joy.

               On the day of our first appointment, I was nervous as well as excited as to see how my baby looks. I was wondering if you were a boy or a girl. When we were sitting in the lobby, I was greeted by a young lady. She was here to abort her child. I was scared. Out of curiosity, I asked her, "Why do you want to abort your baby?" to which she said, "1 month back, I was diagnosed with stage-1 leukemia. The doctors said that during childbirth, the chances of my baby's survival would be lower, almost closer to 26%. And even if my baby survives, my chances of dying at that time increase and she won't be able to live long due to birth defects." I was shocked, and at the same time, I felt sorry for her. I thought, what if something like that happens to me too? But when I saw your first picture, those thoughts didn't bother me. I was really very happy to see my little one, curled up with her finger in her mouth. You looked adorable. I couldn't wait to show your first picture to Alex. When he saw you, he was really very happy to see his little bundle of joy. 

            But our happiness didn't last for a long time. After 4 months, we had to go to the doctor because I suddenly started feeling nauseous. Like I would start vomiting after I ate anything. I thought that it's nothing to be serious about. So, I didn't think of going to the doctor. But that day, I started feeling giddy. So we went to our family doctor and he told us that I was suffering from food poisoning. He said that there's nothing to worry about. But, I had this feeling that my food poisoning must have affected you too. So, we decided to go to the gynaecologist. And there, in the clinic, we found out that your survival rate is really low. But, it was not because of my food poisoning. You were diagnosed with a birth defect. Your heart didn't have an aorta. Even if the doctors tried to save you, you wouldn't be able to survive for more than 6 months. Alex and I were grief-stricken after hearing that news. After we went home, we were caught up in an argument. Alex was adamant on aborting you because he wouldn't be able to see you die at such a young age. But I, on the other hand, couldn't let you die before you were born. Of course, I am a mother and no mother would want to kill her child. Finally, I gave into Alex. But I still couldn't convince myself to abort you. On the very next day, in the clinic, the doctor, too, tried to convince your Dad not to opt for an abortion. He said that after the childbirth, they could go for a heart transplant and you could be saved. But we didn't have enough money for the operation. So we had no other option but to go for an abortion.

             After your death, I gave birth to a healthy baby girl. We kept her name Lea. On the 7th August of every year, we go the cemetery to commemorate your death anniversary. I'm really sorry Alessandra. I hope that after reading this letter, you might forgive us. Alex, Lea, and I, we love you till infinity.

                                                                                                        Yours Lovingly,

                                                                                                        Sandra Evans

                                                                                                              [ Mom ]