Dear Mother (or do you prefer Mom, Mrs. or something else?),

It’s me. I know it wasn’t that long ago that the doctor helped you get rid of me. Up here, kids grow a lot faster than down there because there is so much life. People live longer, too.

First of all, I don’t want you to think I’m writing this because I’m angry with you. I’m happy here—I wish you could see it, even for just a few seconds. It would totally change your perspective on life, and I know you would feel a greater sense of hope and purpose in such a crazy, chaotic world.

When it first happened and I got here, I didn’t have time to be angry or self-pitying. It was the strangest thing—one moment all I could feel was pain, and then it changed to peace and joy as I ended up here. So I guess the reason I wish you had let me stay with you is not for my sake, but for yours.

I know I could have made your life better if you’d given me a chance. Yeah, maybe I don’t understand how hard it was. Maybe your parents would have been angry if they’d found out what you did—they weren’t exactly the forgiving type. Plus, you were already struggling financially—your parents even had to stuff your family into a trailer for the next couple of months.

I was given a glimpse of what could have been. I saw for the first several years of my growth you would’ve had to care for me—but I was gifted for something really special, and I would have let you share in the joy of my discovery. I can’t tell you what it was I would have discovered because that glimpse was given to me and me alone—but I’ll give you a hint: I was going to be a doctor. We could have changed the world together.

I’ve noticed something lately, and I hope you don’t take it as rude if I point it out—your tummy has been getting a little bigger. I think I know why, and I wish you were excited as I am. It’s a boy, right?

Maybe we can’t have those special times together that would have been. I know it’s still hard financially and things keep going wrong so now it feels like life is out, spitefully, to put obstacles in your path—but could you do something for me?

Could you give my little brother a chance at life?

I know together you and he could change things and make life better. He has a special gift too, and I wish I could tell you what it was, but I’m not supposed to. Maybe if I could, it would convince you to keep him.

Of course, if you let the doctors end his life so soon, he’ll be welcome here with the rest of us who had to leave early. One of my friends told me about this really awesome idea she had for creating peace between two countries that aren’t getting along very well. But I don’t think her or my brother’s special gift is something that will be needed here, with everything so perfect and the way it was meant to be.

Is it too much for me to ask you to keep him? He has feelings and needs just like any other baby, even though he’s still got a long way to go before he’s born.

Love, Your Unborn Child.

P.S. I forgive you.