Today I just found out that a month ago, your father forgot to wear something, so I took something. That something apparently avoids mistakes like you for three days, but your father and I must have gone into overtime. We must have totally lost track. I am stuck now. Not because I am not sure he will accept you, but because I am not sure I will accept you myself.
I have heard a lot about your kind. You come into this world, take away my free time, pollute my environment with noise and waste, and you compete for my attention. Now I don’t like that. I am trying to get rid of you, but my phobia for the knife is greater than my fear of sharing attention. So I think I should set some ground rules.
At the time of your arrival, I do not know which ‘daddy’ you will find. In this day and age, with their kind being undecided and unsettled, it is really hard to keep one around. Anyway, whichever you do find that will readily call you ‘child’,please love him. Let his name be the first word you say, so that when you need a diaper change, he is the one you call. Let him be the one you cry for, so that he can shut you up in the middle of the night! I will be mummy. You can love me too. Especially when I am holding a catalogue for an exotic destination. When such times occur, tag my dress and point at the catalogue
screaming, so daddy can know you want to go there. For that, I will carry you, till I need to stand up.
You can also love me when we go shopping and mommy is out of money. There I release you to run to the next adult you see and cry for him to buy you what you want. He will be too embarrassed to say no. I’ll get through the
embarrassing apology later.
But all this is just in case you actually live to see the world.
You see, there is this enemy of mommy’s, that you too should grow to hate. She calls herself Auntie Daisy, but don’t be fooled. She is not your relative. She is the fool who reported mommy to grandma and grandpa and because of that, mommy had to go to the village to have you. In fact, if I do have you, you should hate her because she wanted you taken out. That would mean you wouldn’t even get to read this letter. Sometimes I think she makes a lot of sense with that decision, but other times, I think she just wants me to die trying to get you out. You see, in the country I am in, the safe ways of getting rid of your kind are very unheard of. Those that exist are only for the desperate and strong hearted. I may be that in five more months, but for now, I’m still in denial.
Anyway, when you grow up, please be nice so that mommy doesn’t have to keep reminding you that you were a mistake. Mommy has to go now, so take care. You can choke on whatever you are being fed so that you die a natural death so that mommy can have a life, but that’s totally your decision. I don’t
want you to think mommy is being self centered.
Guess this is goodbye. I will see you in eight months, if you survive the journey.
By Sara Akelly Warner