Dear Baby,
I had to stop my last letter because it got me thinking about what happened when you were conceived.The only person that I had the guts to tell about the night you were conceived was my mother. The night that I told her about you I had to speak through tears. The man was a complete stranger to me, someone that grabbed me on my way to my dorm after a late study session. A man that I didn't want to speak of. A man that I would never have the guts to face again. A man that couldn't be accused of rape because no one would believe it. A man who I used to call professor. I didn't want you to be born just to be put into foster care a place where few escaped or put into a life where it was hard for your mother to look at you because of what you reminded her of. There is not a day that goes by where I do not mourn you, think about you, or hold the first picture of you. I'm sorry that I was not ready for you and not strong enough to have you, but most of all I'm sorry that if I was put in the same situation again I would make the same decision.
