MONTH ONE: Mommy, I am only 4 inches long, but I have all my organs. I love the sound of your voice. The sound of your heart beat is my favorite lullaby. MONTH TWO: Mommy, Today I learned how to suck my thumb. If you could see me, you could definitely tell that I am a baby. I'm not big enough to survive outside my home, though. It is so nice and warm in here. MONTH THREE: You know what, Mommy? I'm a boy!! I hope that makes you happy. I always want you to be happy. I don't like it when you cry. You sound so sad. It makes me sad, too, and I cry with you even though you can't hear me. MONTH FOUR: Mommy, my hair is starting to grow. It is very short and fine, but I will have a lot of it. I spend a lot of my time exercising. I can turn my head and curl my fingers and toes and stretch my arms and legs. I am becoming quite good at it, too. MONTH FIVE: You went to the doctor today. Mommy, he lied to you. He said that I'm not a baby. I am a baby, Mommy... your baby. I think and feel. Mommy, what's abortion? MONTH SIX: I can hear that doctor again. I don't like him. He seems cold and heartless. Something is intruding my home. The doctor called it a needle. Mommy what is it? It burns! Please make him stop! I can't get away from it! Mommy! HELP me! MONTH SEVEN: Mommy, I am okay. I am in Jesus' arms. He is holding me. He told me about abortion. Why didn't you want me, Mommy? EVERY ABORTION IS JUST... One more heart that was stopped. Two more eyes that will never see. Two more hands that will never touch. Two more legs that will never run. One more mouth that will never speak. If you're against abortion, put this in your profile
Love letters to me
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