To The Father of My Angel Baby

Dear Father,

Father, you barely deserve to be called that. No, you don’t really. It’s the anniversary of the conception of our angel baby. I wonder if you’ll even take a moment to remember the child that died while still growing inside me.

I remember the horror that crossed your face when I told you that your forceful hand resulted in a child. I can still hear your anger, asking me how I could have let this happen. Demanding to know how I planned to end our baby’s life before it could take a breath. I remember crying, convincing myself this was my fault. Yes, my abused mentality believed you. I believed that the forced conception and the resulting baby was, of course, my fault. Thus, it was my responsibility to take care of it.

I remember searching abortion clinics, determined to keep you as my man. I was loyal when I should have left you. I should have left you the moment the first time you forced me into a situation that resulted in so much pain. I didn’t. I was blinded by the love I had for you. I thought it was love. The reality is that it was fear. I spent nights racked with indecision and confusion. I didn’t want to lose you, but could not kill my child. Everything in me believed that abortion was wrong.

I remember deciding to keep the baby. I couldn’t take a life that I had helped create. I couldn’t bear that thought. I remember telling you. I boldly, fearfully told you my decision. That was the first time you actually hit me. You kicked me down and kicked our baby until it died. Our baby died because of you. It was then I left you. I couldn’t stay with a man who killed my baby.

I want you to know that not a day goes by when I don’t think about my baby, the little life that lived inside of me. I want you to know that I loved that child more than I would have ever loved you. When you killed the baby, you killed every chance I would have given you.

Today is the anniversary of the conception of what could have been but you made sure never was. My heart is full of grief and pain knowing that I couldn’t protect my child. Know that I have forgiven you. I have forgiven you for forcing me, beating me, belittling me, and for killing my baby.

Salutations,

Viv

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