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Twenty-three chromosomes from my mother
Twenty-three chromosomes from my father
Already, I feel loved
Three weeks now and my heart is beating
My blood is pumping
My brain is dividing into three primary sections
Already, I am alive
Four weeks now and my limbs are taking shape
By five weeks I have my kidneys and external portions of the ear
My hands and wrists are taking shape
Already, I am partially developed
Six weeks now and I have brain waves
My heartbeat can be heard, and I can respond reflexively to stimulus
Already, I have feelings
By seven weeks I have fingers and toes to wiggle
Knee joints are now present
All of my organs are present by week eight and I am only one and half inches long
I have breathing motions, my kidneys are producing urine, and my skin thickens
Already, I will soon know if I am a boy or a girl
By nine weeks my eyelids close, I can suck my thumb and swallow
I’m grasping and responding to touch
At ten weeks I now have fingernails and toenails, and my very own fingerprints
Already, I have an identity

But wait…something else is swimming in your stomach
It’s making me starve and die
Here I am born four hours later, but only six or seven weeks old
Already, I am born and dead
If only you would have let me live
But wait…now at nine weeks there is a tube cutting me apart
A machine is sucking me apart limb by limb
This is the fad
Already, I have experienced pain
You should have let me live
At sixteen weeks there is a large needle
It’s poisoning me
It’s dehydrating me, my brain is hemorrhaging
My organs are failing and my skin is burnt
The next day I am born…but not breathing
Please let me live
Now here…I am fourteen to twenty-three weeks old
But there is a instrument twisting my arm off
Now the other, and now my legs one by one
My skull is now being crushed and no longer am I whole
But in pieces
If you would have just let me live
I’m mostly developed now
I now have a chance of surviving outside my mother
Here I am being born, but feet first and face down
Just the head left arms and legs squirming about
But wait…no…blunt scissors are being put in the base of my skull
The scissors are now spreading apart
Something is being inserted into my skull
My brain…it sucks my brain out until my head collapses
Now I am fully born, but no longer squirming about
Just still, not moving
Already, I have felt hate
Why didn’t you let me live?

Written November 11, 2009
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